#oh god ALSO one of the techs i work with regularly i think asked me out :( but in a very noncommittal way :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adenthemage · 2 years

Note

Okay fine I’ll do it

[rattles you]

Tell me your thoughts on Bishop!!!!!!! I wanna hear!!!

— Trauma

[Is rattled!!]

Oh boy I am so sorry my dear friend but as it happens pushing the Bishop button is even worse than pushing the OC button. I have done extensive historical research for this asshole, and I am totally using this ask as an excuse to infodump about it. God Forgive Me for the length this post is about to be.

Anyway before I get into all that, first the catalyst! The thing that got the part of my brain dedicated to analyzing Agent Bishop turning in the first place: in the post I tagged, you brought up the idea of how much power Bishop actually has, which is something I find super interesting! To me, there are two especially relevant pieces of evidence to consider, and they are as follows:

The first and most compelling to me is that Bishop seems to report directly to the president, which suggests-- as far as I can tell-- that he is pretty high-ranking within the government, or at least takes some priority in getting meetings with important people. It was also shown, briefly, that Bishop worked directly with at least one other president in the past, very early in America's development iirc. However, we know for a fact he does not outrank the president and relies on them for funding, so we can at least draw a hard line there. (There is another discussion to be had from Bishop's relationship to the presidents, which I'll come back around to after this point.)

Second, the level of technology at EPF's disposal. Now, some of it can be said to come from scrapped alien tech and indeed I think some of it is very much implied to be so. But it's clear from the numerous bases, modes of transport and level of defenses that EPF is and has been well-funded. The amount of resources at Bishop's disposal is kinda crazy, and he is also able to fund his own research projects, when the money's not used on the field.

There might also be something to be said of Bishop plausibly being head of EPF for 200 years, and being implied to have founded it. It could suggest a high level of trust and effectiveness, though that's more speculation than evidence. Otherwise, that's mostly why I feel Bishop and EPF do indeed have pretty strong influence within America and its government (wish I could say I had any solid thoughts on his influence outside of the US but tbh what we have suggests he absolutely does not lmao)

As for how Bishop may view the Justice Force, I think your read on it-- him not having much concern because they originate from Earth-- is pretty accurate. Bishop's main priority is protecting Earth from forces outside of it. When it comes to strife within, he doesn't seem too bothered. Despite his greater goals aligning morally good in theory, he very much believes the ends justify the means, and we've seen him dismissive of possibly causing the deaths of innocents because there would be overall long-term benefits. (Which is also why I think an invalid reasoning would be that he leaves JF be because they help people; he doesn't really care about the plight of the individual.)

Them appearing clearly humanoid helps, of course. He is definitely also xenophobic.

On that note, actually! It's also worth noting his interest in the turtles wanes a little after getting their DNA. After that first confrontation most subsequent run-ins with him tend to be the turtles crashing in on an unrelated op. Would he be chill with them getting endorsed by JF, though, that I'm not so sure ghdgdg. There might be a case to be made that vigilantes who regularly screw with government operations should not be getting a JF stamp of approval, and I think he's vindictive enough to press that.

Also on that note I just wish we got to see Bishop's thoughts on those more fantastical parts of the 03 universe more. How much is he aware of the Y'Lyntians and other non-human races native to earth? How aware is he of other dimensions, and did his knowledge and/or protocols change following the events of Turtles Forever? How about time travel and Time Keepers and all that? Given s5 I'm inclined to say he has some awareness of chi, mystics, and/or spirits because he's armed and ready with an arsenal of weapons that are effective against True Shredder's ghost demon army. Things to consider.

Also also! To loop back around on the presidents point: one thing I found really interesting about that is that it suggests the American government has Bishop on record as being alive for 200+ years and counting. So I think it's funny to imagine that after a certain point, every new president has to be sworn to secrecy and let in on the fact that yeah, one of the black ops leaders is functionally immortal, he reports directly to you, have fun.

Anyway those are all the thoughts I had based on that one segment from the radio post ghdvshs I warned you I warned you it's ridiculous

At this juncture I will now be rambling about various other observations, until the event that tumblr forcibly stills my hand:

-Bishop will chameleon into whatever his job requires of him. This is something that became obvious to me (and my captive audience of friends left to suffer my liveblogging my watchthroughs on discord,) after finally learning what the fuck was up with Bishop in Fast Forward. When I originally watched through, I was having trouble reconciling this Bishop with the one I knew and loved, even with the explanation we were given to why he changed his tune. So I posed my issue to The Gang (captive audience) and we stumbled upon a Great Truth on the nature of Agent John Bishop

Bishop, at his core, is fueled by the trauma he experienced when he was abducted so long ago, and it turned into a strong motivation to keep Earth safe so no one would ever have to experience that again (and also revenge. Revenge was a big part of it, too. But I digress.) At the core, Bishop's motivations are morally-good. And here's the other thing about Bishop, he's willing to throw away ANYTHING to achieve his goals. Nothing is sacred, not even human lives. As such, it follows Bishop will become whatever is most needed of him to accomplish his goals, too, including overhauling his behavior. This has likely already taken place numerous times in the "present," given Bishop comes from a different time period and would have to be constantly adapting to modern etiquettes and sensibilities. But this becomes even more likely in the event that he wanted to achieve and maintain an elected position, like the presidency he holds in Fast Forward. And indeed he succeeds, as we hear through Cody that he's extremely well-respected and beloved by the public.

I think it is very likely a majority of the Bishop we see in FF is a well-practiced act to become as personable as possible. He decided the best way to protect Earth was to ally with other planets, and chameleoned himself into the perfect ambassador in order to achieve this. So because his ultimate goal aligns morally-good, he became good in pursuit of it, despite his true nature (which is a sadistic mfer.) I also think it's way funnier to think FF Bishop is constantly surpressing urges to choose violence.

And piggybacking off of that, the other really interesting idea here is that Bishop's ultimate goal will create a world were people like himself will have no place. Bishop is, again, a sadistic fuck, he enjoys inflicting suffering on others. And here he's so effectively created an era of peace that even staged wrestling is considered violent and barbaric. How bored out of his mind must he be on the regular? How must he feel knowing he can never sate those violent tendencies or the world he built will turn on him in a heartbeat? What keeps him working for the same goals regardless?

(I still think the execution was clunky in FF despite how great the ideas behind it are. Are you telling me Bishop isn't internally obsessing over how the fuck the turtles just showed up 100 years in the future looking like teenagers still? You telling me the turtles don't listen to Bishop go 'hey guys I'm good now want to work with me :)' and don't immediately have 20 million alarm bells going off cuz that is DEFINITELY A TRAP and HOW IS BISHOP HERE if he has access to time travel that's REALLY BAD)

-Despite being an antagonist, Bishop almost always succeeds. THIS RIGHT HERE is one of the things I find most fascinating about Bishop as a character. Motherfucker can't stop winning. And it's especially interesting because as an agent in the story he is aligned to nobody but himself; he's just as likely to come into conflict with the turtles as he is to pick a fight with one of their enemies. Sometimes he does both at once!

But like, when it comes to the greater goals Bishop sets out to accomplish his success rate is pretty damn high. The Slayer might be the most overt failure, he got skewered and his creation ran off to live with the rats so rip to that one. But like, he succeeds in getting the turtles' DNA samples, he succeeds in tricking the president into giving him more funding, he's able to blackmail fuckin Oroku Saki, he's able to trick the turtles into doing his dirty work, and so on and so forth. This goes hand-in-hand with his chameleon abilities. He is ruthless, willing to sacrifice anything to win, and he has been shown very capable of thinking outside the box. I think the fact that he's from a different time and lived through so many cultural shifts has a big part in the latter.

Also, this guy takes on 6+v1 odds multiple times and holds his own. Like what the hell. I could go into a whole other thing about his fighting style but this is gonna be long enough as it is-- all I'll say on that point for now is that Splinter is the only character shown to consistently give him trouble in a fight, which has an amazing effect of hyping both of them up.

-Bishop must have some level of medical background. This is mostly just speculation based on the fact that, when we're first introduced to Bishop and he's trying to perform vivisection on the guys, he's the only one in the room. I imagine you don't want to screw up your samples with something like a vivsection? Though I can't say I'm terribly knowledgable on the subject, considering the vested interest he has in actually getting the samples, I doubt he cleared the room without knowing he'd be able to do so. (The other reason is definitely just for his own sadistic thrills, of course.)

-I mentioned before, but Bishop seems to be lenient with scientists, even those not under his employ. Obv he's pretty indulgent with Stockman despite his attitude (at least, as close as Bishop can get to Not Terrible,) and he remains as loyal to keeping Stockman employed as Stockman is willing to stay in EPF. Bishop is also shown to have some level of respect or acknowledgment for both Donny and Leatherhead's intelligence, and iirc he's also seen to have some investment in Dr Chaplin Not Dying in s5.

This also could suggest Bishop is just a good employer in general, which I think would be a funny contrast to how we usually see him portrayed.

-Bishop's current accent is probably not his original one. This has no bearing on anything, but John Bishop was born in 1773 and they did not talk like we do, now. I'm not sure if he would develop a contemporary accent naturally, since he has been alive and actively working with people this entire time, or if this would be something he'd had to have worked to change intentionally.

-After running the math, Bishop was probably about 43 when he stopped aging.

-Who tf is the monster to Bishop?? Seriously this is going to haunt me forever we never get any closure on that and it's the closest we see to Bishop having a personal life or connections outside of just his work. One thing I've extrapolated from this, though, is that he was probably working on a way to reverse whatever transformed that man, and this meant he actually had a bit of a head-start on a formula to reverse mutations when the outbreak happened.

-Despite my opining for more Bishop content, I actually love how ambiguous a lot of his personal information is. It makes him stand out as an audience member, especially before they reveal anything about him and we see this dude just get up and walk off being impaled through the chest. It also just enforces a sense that nobody really knows him. We're only even privy to the fact that he's from the 18th century because it's an opening stinger for an episode, none of the other characters are aware of it. I love that.

-If you ever need some vibes for playing out a scene with Bishop, I cannot recommend the Utopia soundtrack enough. Monarch's Pyramid, To You All Kids Will Come, Meditative Chaos, and Jessica Gets Off are the ones I give the most listens.

-Given how very little we're shown of Bishop outside the context of EPF, I'm partial to thinking he literally never takes a break. Every waking moment he's working, he hasn't had a vacation day in 200 years. That's just a headcanon, though.

-Whenever Bishop appears on-screen, you can usually bet the show is about to dip 20 shades darker. This is initially what got me so invested in him, he's a harbinger for when the show's like Get Fucking Ready.

Anyway. I think about him too much. I intend to rewatch 03 after finishing my binge of 87 and compile even more observations, too, so maybe I'll have even more to say by then, who knows loL. In the meantime please take some extra Bishop doodles from my sketchbook and this moodboard of what my discord ramble box has looked like for the past few months

#rip to my followers #agent bishop #tmnt 2003 #Thank you so much again for indulging me fr!! I can't express how stupid excited it makes me to be given free reign to ramble like this LOL #sorry for being a Bishop stan :pensive:#I feel it's also important to note I could have even more to say especially concerning his fighting style #because 03 is AMAZING at having consistent and unique fighting styles for each character so I pay close attention to those things #and then we haven't even touched on my man 2012!Bishop who is underrated as hell #Shoutout to The Gang for enabling me at every opportunity and making my obsession worse #We also have like. So many AUs. it's stupid #my favorite is a crossover with Invader Zim I think #marie says words occasionally #marie draws sometimes #hmm. do i put this on my art blog... hmmm....

41 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 6

@pocketramblr another :)

Shouta trudged back to the staff break room. His counseling session with Midoriya had lasted a little over an hour, so while there were still teachers in the building, many of them had left. With the exception of semi-retired heroes like Recovery Girl, everyone working here had two full time jobs. Hizashi, despite his carefree air, had even more than that in the form of his radio show. Hizashi had probably left with the students.

But Hizashi wasn't either of the ones he wanted to talk to. Not today.

He opened the door. Three, no, four teachers were there, but Snipe didn't count, seeing as he was completely passed out on one of the couches with his gas mask half off. He must have had an early shift patrol today, poor sucker.

Nemuri was there, too, with most of her hero outfit on. She was applying her hero-grade makeup (water proof, resistant to three common contact poisons, and guaranteed not to react badly with mace).

More importantly, Kan and Yagi were both there, poring over papers on the same desk, no less. Shouta walked up to the table and looked down at sheets and sheets full of incomprehensible numbers.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We-"

'Don't tell him!" said Kan, urgently. "This is going to be my class's leg up on Aizawa this time around."

"Haha! Good one!" Yagi slapped Kan's back, and apparently even in his skeletal form he could pack a punch, because Kan had the air knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Yagi continued, "I'm making personalized nutrition plans for his class!"

"What?"

"One of my undergraduate degrees was in nutritional and health sciences, after all!"

Wow, there was a lot to unpack there, but Shouta was more than happy to leave it in its box. He had other fish to fry and topics to interrogate. Small talk requirement fulfilled, he moved on.

"How well do you know Midoriya?"

Yagi blinked and put down his pencil. "Moderately so? We met about this time last year and have been meeting regularly since then."

So, so much to unpack.

"Why?"

"Ah, he... impressed me, I suppose? He was involved in the bodysnatcher incident last year."

That was an understatement.

"He had a lot of heroic spirit!" continued Yagi. "But... not so much in the, ah, body category. I thought it would be a shame, a waste, really, if he wasn't able to pursue his dream, and a hero school prep course wasn't really in the cards for him, considering his quirk status and the timing... And I did have this degree..." He waved his hands vaguely at the table. "I just gave him a little help."

"What brought all this on, anyway?" asked Nemuri. "Midoriya is the little green haired kid, right? One of Chibiida's new friends?"

"If you keep calling him that, I won't be held responsible for when he snaps and attempts murder. But, yes, that's Midoriya."

"So...?"

"He told me I was the best teacher he'd ever had."

Nemuri started laughing.

"Oh," said Yagi. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well."

"I think he's pulling your leg, Shouta," said Nemuri, coming over to pat him on his shoulder. "Man, I didn't think a friend of Chibiida's would have it in him. Such youth!"

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much he wasn't."

Nemuri's laughter died off.

"Judging from some comments he made today," said Shouta, "not to mention the discrepancies between his record and his observed behavior in the classroom, I'd say he's been the target of severe quirkism in the past, particularly from his teachers. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?"

Yagi's face darkened and the mood in the room grew much more somber. "Not in so many words, no. However... some of his comments about his teachers disturbed me enough to bring it to the attention of the Musutafu Educational Services District, but as an unrelated stranger without concrete proof..."

("You can use the acronym, you know," muttered Vlad.)

"You're telling me they ignored the number one hero."

Yagi made a face. "I didn't go to them as All Might. Can you imagine the media frenzy if I did that? I didn't want to paint that kind of target on young Midoriya's back."

That was fair, actually. If largely-anonymous Shouta had enemies, All Might had ten times as many. Not to mention supposed fans.

"Other avenues of inquiry were also fruitless," said All Might, countenance darkening. "I asked some of my police colleagues, but they don't have full discretion over the direction of their investigations, and, again, if I were to use my weight to move them... It would get out, and people would wonder why I was so concerned with an apparently normal middle school."

"Did you try talking to Nezu about it?"

"No? Why?"

Shouta reminded himself that although Yagi was an alumnus, he was also very new as a teacher, and was as of yet unfamiliar with Nezu's more interesting traits.

"I'm going to," said Shouta, "and you're going to come with me." He turned to Kan. "Have you heard anything from Bakugo about quirk discrimination?"

"All I've heard from him are explosions, threats, and some kind of complex I don't have nearly enough psychiatric training to- They're from the same school," he realized.

"Yeah."

Kan pinched his brow. "So, the sweet shy kid you keep gushing about-" Both Shouta and Yagi attempted to reassure Kan they weren't gushing, "-and the demon brat are from the same school."

"That is what their records say," agreed Shouta. "Did you know, Yagi?"

"Oh, that they knew each other? Yes. Actually, I was rather under the impression they were childhood friends, as Midoriya ran out to help him during the bodysnatcher incident."

Shouta grunted. It was possible. He hadn't seen the two of them interact, at any rate.

"I'm going to Nezu with you," said Kan, standing up. "No matter what else this hell school did, they deserve to suffer for inflicting Bakugo Katsuki on me with those recommendations full of lies."

"Why don't you just expell him if he's that bad?"

"Because he's talented, hardworking, and hasn't actually broken any rules except for the swearing. He's just a pain I wasn't prepared to deal with and will probably contribute more to my hearing loss than Yamada by the end of the year."

"Wait, wait," said Yagi. "What exactly are you expecting Nezu to do in this situation?"

"Well," said Nemuri, who still hadn't left yet, "let's just say there's a reason hid name is 'god' in the staff group chat."

Terrible did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt when he woke up. His skin was static. His mouth was dry in a way that hurt. It felt like a siren was going off in his brain, and also like it was too quiet. He wanted to both run all the way to the school and hide in his closet.

This, of course, left him paralyzed in bed.

He hadn't felt remotely like this since the first time someone had left spider lilies on his desk at school. What was wrong with him?

No, that was the wrong question. All signs pointed to him having Danger Sense. He was in danger. And also immobile in bed.

With a great deal of effort, he turned to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. The clock in the corner read 4:42. Far too early to call anyone. And yet...

With shaky fingers, he navigated to Mr. Yagi's contact information and pressed dial. To Izuku's surprise, it only rang once.

"Young Midoriya? Is something wrong?"

The sound of his voice loosened the terrible knot under Izuku's breastbone. "I- May-maybe? I don't- I don't know, I think so."

There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line. "What happened?"

"I just- just woke up, and I- I think it's Danger Sense. It- Something bad is going to happen."

"I'm on my way. Is your mother with you?"

"N-no. She's at a- at a tech conference in Tokyo. She won't be back until- until tomorrow. Mr. Yagi, I don't- I don't think it's something here. I think it's later... at the school."

There was a pause. "My boy, are you quite sure?"

Izuku's laugh was just a little hysterical. "I mean, I'm- I'm pretty new to this, but..." he'd like to think his flight or fight reflex would have a more constructive response to am immediate threat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up, I should have waited-"

"Nonsense! Forewarned is forearmed, and time is one of the most valuable resources a hero can have! I'm still picking you up, I'll just-" Mr. Yagi coughed, "-take the car instead."

"The car? You mean Hercules!?" The excitement was enough to free Izuku from his paralysis and propel him into a sitting position.

"Well, yes, but, my boy, how did you know? I don't think I've ever mentioned the name in my interviews..."

"But you did! In one of your American interviews. It was for a local station and you and Mr. Shield were on together."

"But those were in English."

"I know! When I found out about them, it really motivated me to work on my English! I think I could probably pass the Level Two fluency test..."

"Young Midoriya, have I ever told you how glad I am that you aren't a villain?"

"Hikage, did Danger Sense ever make you feel this bad?" asked Nana as Yoichi fussed in the background.

"Super Anxiety made me feel this bad all the time. Sometimes, it made me feel worse. I got used to it."

Nana let out a sigh of relief. It sucked to Ninth right now, but if it was normal for the quirk...

"That's good, then," said En. "Not for Ninth, obviously, but if that's just how the quirk works, he'll be able to figure it out. What did it usually mean, when you felt like this?"

"Generally, that someone was planning on killing me in the next few hours."

Dead(er than usual) silence.

"Ah," said En.

"You know," said Nana, "sometimes the kinds of lives we led slips my mind, but then the universe is always real happy to turn around and slap it back into me."

Yoichi started screeching.

"Do you feel any worse now that we're here?" asked Mr. Yagi after shutting Hercules down.

"Not really," said Izuku. He slumped down in his seat and looked away. "I'm sorry, I dragged you out of bed and this is probably just a stupid pointless meaningless panic attack..." He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. He was so stupid. And selfish. All Might could be out helping people right now. Or taking care of himself (which, according to Recovery Girl's comments during their training sessions, he didn't do nearly enough of).

"Hey, hey, there's no need to cry, it's alright."

"Because you're here?" asked Izuku with a sniffle.

"Well, yes, but also, even if it was 'just' a panic attack, I'd still want to be here for you." He reached across the central console to pat Izuku on the shoulder. Then his face twisted into something rather sheepish. "But on the subject of panic attacks, something did occur to me on the way here."

Izuku looked back down at his knees. "What is it?"

"This is the anniversary of the day we met."

Izuku... had known that, actually. Waking up as he had had driven it from his mind, but the date was marked on his calendar. He'd even gotten All Might a gift, although he hadn't yet talked himself into being brave enough to give it to him, and with what happened today, it would most likely languish in his desk drawer for an indefinite period of time as the idea of giving it became progressively more awkward.

"My boy? I can't quite make out what you're saying. You're mumbling."

Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright. I'm just an old man with hearing problems."

"You're not old! It's... I just- I just don't see how- how that's connected to this." He gestured at himself in all his vaguely-trembling glory.

"Young Midoriya... you almost died three separate times that day. That's traumatic. And sometimes anniversaries are... reminders."

"I only almost died once?"

"The first time with the sludge villain, grabbing on to my leg- and I don't think I ever apologized for telling you to let go, I was just so surprised- and then the sludge villain again."

"But I only almost died the first time..." He trailed off as Mr. Yagi gave him a look. He'd thought his mother was the only one who could give looks like that... "Do you really think this is connected to that?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Yagi. "Do you feel like it might be?"

"I don't know," said Izuku. He bent over and knotted his fingers in his hair.

"Do you think it might help to stay home today?"

"No!" yelped Izuku. "No," he repeated, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Alright, alright. Never fear, my boy." Mr. Yagi gave him another steadying shoulder pat. "In that case, let's go into this with the assumption that this is danger sense, and it is attempting to warn you of a real threat."

"Okay," said Izuku. He rubbed at his eyes. "What do we do first?"

Mr. Yagi tensed and looked up at the top floors of UA. "Well..."

"Hm!" said Nezu. "That is something of a conundrum! The extent of your quirk is unclear, and it is not properly registered, so we cannot go through the official routes we normally would for a warning given through a precognitive or clairvoyant quirk, even given that we are aware of One for All and the probable nature of Danger Sense."

Nezu knowing about One for All had been a bit of a surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have been. All Might would have had to tell Nezu something so that Izuku was allowed on campus before he was really a student, and seeing as how All Might was originally teaching here to find a successor... well, it made sense. Izuku just wished he'd been told.

How many other people knew was a question for later, however.

"Your inexperience with the quirk and other circumstances further complicates the matter."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"Whatever for? It isn't your fault." Nezu did not wait for an answer. "Then there is yesterday's incident to consider... You say you felt something with the reporters?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Hm. Yes. Toshinori, I so believe you have a contact who could clear this up much more efficiently."

"I know," said Mr. Yagi. "He isn't picking up his phone."

"You don't think-?" started Izuku.

"No, no, he just hasn't been speaking to me lately."

"Oh? I was under the impression you had been communicating with him regularly since returning to Musutafu."

"He thought I would change my mind about something I didn't change my mind about, apparently. It doesn't matter. What else can we do?"

"A good number of things, luckily. Midoriya, I am going to make a series of phone calls. I would like you to tell me if the sensation you are experiencing changes at all while I make them."

"Yes, sir."

Nezu began methodically going through Izuku's list of teachers, warning them that something 'like yesterday' might happened and going over lesson plans and safety procedures. Nothing really changed. Until Nezu called Thirteen.

(Oh, gosh, they were going to go to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint on a field trip today? That was so cool!)

But after Nezu talked to Thirteen about checking safety systems, a little bit of the tension he'd been holding onto leaked away.

"Interesting," said Nezu. "Perhaps we should reschedule rescue training until-"

Izuku dove for Nezu's garbage bin.

"-or perhaps not," mused Nezu as Izuku expelled the meager contents of his stomach.

It was a good thing he hadn't eaten breakfast.

"Hikage," said Banjo. "I'm sorry for calling you a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard with a warped sense of humor if this is what you had to put up with all the time."

"You called me a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard?"

"Not to your face, but yes."

"Well. It isn't as if those things aren't all true..."

"I'm okay," said Izuku. "That just... felt bad."

"No cancelations in that case," said Nezu as Mr. Yagi hovered.

"Y-yeah. Oh gosh, now I know how Uraraka feels..."

"Perhaps you should stay home-"

"No! I can't! That would be..."

Nezu held up his hands- paws? "It was merely a suggestion. Can I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, please," said Izuku, voice catching uncomfortably on his raw throat.

"I do have a few more calls to make. Do you feel up to staying, or would you prefer to head down to Recovery Girl? Or perhaps even the cafeteria? I imagine you haven't eaten breakfast."

"I'd like to stay."

"Very well." Nezu picked up his phone again. Izuku could just make out the click on the other end when it was picked up. "Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? One thing's for sure! I'm the principal!" There was laughter on the other end of the line. "No, not at all! I am in fact calling for you, Tensei. Or should I say, Ingenium? I'm aware this is last minute, and you were planning on taking the day off- How do I know? It was quite simple, really- but between the break-in yesterday and a tip I received this morning regarding a threat to the school, I would like a few more hands on deck than usual. Why, yes, you can stay with your brother's class. Do try not to tease Shouta too much. He has a reputation to maintain." After a few more pleasantries, Nezu hung up. "Midoriya?"

"I... think that's better? I'm sorry, it's hard to tell what could be the quirk and what's just me feeling bad."

Nezu nodded. "In that case, I do recommend that you head to Recovery Girl's office. My other calls will be similar, and the other heroes will not be with your class."

"Why not?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Because Midoriya's reaction to the field trip being canceled suggests that the danger may not be limited to himself or his class. Oh! And one more thing. Midoriya, I noticed that you put in some costume alteration requests. Naturally, most of them will not be finished until some time next week, however, some of the support items you mentioned are fairly common. If you have time before the field trip, you should pay a visit to Power Loader."

Izuku hadn't expected it, but he did feel much better after eating, despite his continuing sense of impending doom. It was also about half an hour from the beginning of homeroom, so he had the time to go to the support department and check if they had anything he could take.

He hoped they had grappling hooks. Izuku had always wanted a grappling hook.

Mr. Yagi took him most of the way there, but students had started to arrive at this point, and Izuku convinced him to go prepare for classes (and hide in the staff area so that no one would wonder why he, a skeleton man not recognizable as a hero, was at the school). Before too long, Izuku stood in front of a rather sturdy-looking metal door. He hoped this was the right one.

He raised his hand to knock just as something crashed into him. Ah. This was it for sure. The way he would die. The danger he had foreseen.

No. Wait. Never mind. He was fine, just on the ground.

"Oh! There was a person there! You okay?"

"U-um," said Izuku, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'm fine, just a little startled."

"What're you doing here, anyway?"

"I- I'm here for... support... gear?" He sort of trailed off as he looked up.

It was the intense pink haired girl from the other day. As he watched, her expression changed from one of mild concern to calculating interest.

"Support gear, you say?"

Shouta answered his phone as he walked down the hall. "Nezu, I've already done every security check I can think of that'll fit-"

"Not quite why I was calling, although I can see why you would think so. One of your students needs to be rescued from the support department."

Shouta changed direction without missing a beat. "It's Midoriya, isn't it?"

"Why, yes."

"Did you send him down there without warning him?"

"Yes, again. You know me so well!"

Shouta hung up.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first au #danger first #fic #fanfic

96 notes · View notes

dreadpoetssociety · 4 years

Text

That’s Not Some Girl, That’s My Sister

TW: Abuse, physical injuries

Request:

I noticed you wrote Spencer X Sister!Reader. I was wondering if you could write a Penelope Garcia X Little!Sister!Reader. When their parents died Y/N was just born so she was put into foster care because Garcia couldn’t care for her. Garcia visits her every chance they get and they keep in touch 24/7. What Garcia doesn’t know is that Y/N is being abused at her foster home. When she turns 16 it gets so bad that she can barely move. One day she walks into the bau bloodied and bruised... (1/?) Morgan notices her, (The team doesn’t know she exists) and is like, “Hey kid you alright?” She drops to the floor and Garcia comes out to prep the team for a case and sees her on the floor. She drops her papers and runs over, holding her close. The team, who don’t know Y/N come out and ask what’s wrong and Morgan says that some kid walked in bleeding. Garcia gets defensive and says, “She’s not some kid, she’s my sister and her name is Y/N” They bring her to the hospital and... (2/3) and Garcia does her magic to get her foster parents arrested and she adopts her. And then the whole team welcomes her and it’s super fluffy ending? Sorry this was so long. Thank you so much❤️ If you don’t want to do this request you can delete it, sorry about that :) (3/3)

Note: Remember how I said there would be no fics tonight because I have school in the morning and didn’t do homework? Well, I lied. Please feel free to send me more requests! To those who already have, just know that I am working on ALL of them. Also, realizing now that I didn’t exactly stick to this prompt regarding the part where Y/N walks in and Garcia sees her, but hopefully it is still okay!!!

Penelope Garcia x Sister!Reader

()()()()()()

It wasn’t so much that Penelope Garcia had kept you a secret, but that you had never come up in conversation. Never once had anyone asked if the tech goddess had siblings. The team never found it their business to question after knowing the water of your parents. She also believed that the less they knew, the safer you were from the criminals that the analyst helped to catch.

Unbeknownst to her, however, this was far from the truth.

You never knew your parents like your sister did. You had just been born, and Penelope was deemed unable to care for you, you had no other family, so you wound up in foster care. You’d gone from house to house, family to family, but no matter where you were, you were always in contact with your elder sister. You were allowed to visit each other regularly, and those visits were the only thing you looked forward to. The only times you felt safe.

You were actually just leaving a visit for lunch with Penelope and walking towards her as you passed by a large building.

“Y/N, I didn’t even realized we walked by, but this is where I work!” the blonde said with a smile.

“Really? The FBI is just out here?” you asked.

“Pretty much.” she replied, and then her eyes grew wide and a gasp escaped her lips, “Oh my goodness, Y/N, you should visit sometime.”

“Finally!” you exclaimed, “I have ALWAYS wanted to visit, but didn’t want to invite myself.” your sister laughed.

“I haven’t really told them about you. I was never really sure how, but it seems like a good enough time now that you’re 16.” As you stepped closer and closer to the car, your mood began to drop, not knowing what pain would face you at home this time. You figured you could tell Penelope, but you’d been in many abusive foster homes, the most they would do is just move you to another one, if anything at all, and you could never ask your sister to take you in as her responsibility. From what she’s said, her job is very stressful, and you figured you would just add to that.

It wasn’t long before you were at your doorstep waving goodbye. Sighing, you turned and creaked open he door that led straight to your living hell. Joseph, your foster father, was on his stingy recliner, bottles of various different alcohols surrounded him. He himself, however, was asleep. You hated him. You could not wait for the day that you were set free from this place, the day you could finally fight him back. The man was a drunk, and a violent one at that. And even then, it’s nowhere near as bad than when he was sober. He knew how to hurt more when he was thinking straight. You tried to tiptoe around him to get to your room, but knocked something over, waking him up. Your heart genuinely stopped. You knew what would happen next.

The greasy man woke, and both of you locked eyes as he slowly sat up.

“Now, what the hell did I tell you about making noise?” he slurred loudly as he approached you, “Huh, brat?”

“I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident, it won’t happen again.” you said nervously. It was then that you both looked down at what had fell, and it was a glass decoration, which had now shattered into pieces. You knew you were in for it in that moment.

And Joseph didn’t hesitate. He hit you across the face, knocking you to the ground with your arm landing on some of the glass. You screamed out in pain, which resulted with more violence from the man standing over you.

“Clean it up!” he screamed, “Right now!” you tried to get up to get the broom, but he shoved you back down.

“With your hands.” he said. You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, when he put his foot on the top of your head, pushing your face down. Small shards cut up your cheek. You began to pick up pieces of the glass, one cutting you every now and then. Joseph kicked or punched every so often when he thought you were not doing a good enough job. By the end, you could barely move. You were bleeding everywhere, Joseph had knocked the wind out of you, hit and punched and kicked in any area he could have. At this point, you really thought you were going to die. And for a split second, you were almost relieved by the thought.

Eventually, Joseph passed out again on his recliner while you laid motionless on the floor nearby. It was then that you decided. You didn’t care what happened to you next, but you were not coming back to this house.

()()()()()()

How you even made it to the building your sister pointed out to you earlier was beyond you. It had taken you so long to move your body there that it was late at night now. You moved swiftly through the building, and reading the signs with the departments and their floors, you spotted the BAU. How nobody spotted you was also surprising. This was, after all, an FBI building, and you were a 16 year old girl who could barely stay conscious, bleeding from every pore and bruised at every inch.

The elevator brought you to a set of glass doors. There were desks everywhere, but most were empty. It seemed as though the room at the top of the small set of stairs was having a meeting, though, and you thought maybe Penelope was there. You hoped so badly that she was there. You got blood on the handle opening the door.

A man turned around from a coffee machine at the sound of your entering. He dropped his cup quickly and ran to you.

“Hey, kid? You alright?” he questioned, knowing that you obviously were not. You felt everything slipping away from you in that moment, and the world around you went dark.

‘

()()()()()()

“Guys? Get out here, now!” Morgan yelled as he fell with you to the floor, getting your blood on his shirt and his hands. Your whole team came rushing out of the room where Garcia had been briefing a case.

“What happened?” Hotch asked, practically jumping the stairs.

“I don’t know, this girl just came in and just passed out like this.” Morgan replied. Garcia had been behind Spencer, and when she stepped around him, her whole world was destroyed.

“Morgan!” she screamed, “That’s not some girl, that’s my sister, and her name is Y/N! Oh my god.” she ran to your unconscious body, dropping papers and a remote, and fell to her knees to hold you close. Spencer, even though he knew you had only just fell unconscious, walked over and put two fingers to your neck to check for a pulse, and was quite relieved when he found one.

“Call an ambulance,” Garcia sobbed, “please. Someone please.”

“An ambulance coming here would take too long given the traffic. It doesn’t seem to be fatal, let’s take her in one of the SUVs” Spencer suggested. Garcia nodded.

Morgan picked you up, JJ and Emily helped Garcia to the car, while Spencer drove since he would know the fastest route. Rossi stayed behind. You were asleep in the hospital for hours due to the fact that they kept you under in order to remove all the glass shards hidden throughout your skin. Your eyes and arms and torso were bruised heavily, but thankfully nothing was broken.

You were met with a group of people you’d never seen before when you woke up. Searching around the room you realized you were in a hospital bed, and soon enough remembered what brought you there.

“Huh?” was all you said. Penelope shot up instantly, smiling at you with tears in her eyes.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re awake. What happened to you?” she cried. You blinked for a few seconds.

“Garcia, she just woke up, she might not be able to talk about it, yet.” JJ reminded. It was quiet for a moment, until you spoke again.

“Joseph.” you said. You were waking up a little more now, pain spread through your body slowly and you winced with every move. Trying to sit up, you were quickly, but softly, pushed back down by a man in a black t-shirt.

“No, kid, you need to rest.” he said, “Who’s this Joseph? I just want to have a little chat.”

“My foster father.” you sighed. Everybody’s face in the room dropped, especially Penelope’s upon finding out you weren’t safe at home anymore.

“Y/N. . . “ she sobbed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.” you shrugged, which send a chilling pain from your shoulder to the ends of your toes, and you groaned.

“Take it easy, kid.”

“Y/N M/N Garcia,” Penelope replied firmly, “You have not ever been, nor will you ever be a bother to me. Especially, ESPECIALLY, if you aren’t in a safe situation. I would do anything for you, Y/N. We’re getting you out of that house. When you’re in a dangerous situation don’t you ever think not to tell someone, Y/N.”

She thought for a moment, “In fact, we’re going to do something I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to adopt you. No more foster homes, we’ll be together more often, you’ll be safe.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes, really. And we’re throwing Joseph in prison.” you’d never heard anger in Penelope’s voice like you were hearing right now. For a moment, you both cried together. You knew now that you should’ve mentioned it sooner, but that also you weren’t going to have to worry about it anymore. All the pain, it was going to go away. Not mentally, not completely yet, but you were never going to go home and be afraid of what would happen when you stepped through the door. Instead, you would be excited, for every laugh, every smile, every story, every memory that you were going to make with your sister.

“By the way,” you sniffed, “who are all these people?”

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, “This is my team! That’s Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and Derek Morgan.”

“You,” you pointed weakly at Morgan, “you’re the one who calls her ‘Baby Girl.’” the man laughed.

“The one and only.”

“And you,” you pointed at Spencer, “you’re the genius one right? The one that does magic. Tell me a fact.”

“Uh,” he thought for a second, “V616 is the closest back hole to planet Earth. It’s actually 3,000 light years away. Also, black holes warp time and space. If you put a clock in a black hole, but you stood outside of it, it would actually appear to be ticking slower.”

“Of course.” Morgan says, “Of course you would know that.”

“She asked.” the tall man shrugged with a smirk, “I’ve got plenty more of those, too. And yes, magic tricks.”

You turned toward JJ and Emily, “You guys are like, her best friends.”

The two nodded, “Wouldn’t want to be anyone else.” JJ replied. Lastly, you turned to Hotch.

“Boss.”

“Yes.” was all he said in response.

“Why are you all here though?” you asked, “You don’t even know me.”

All of them were quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say, when Emily spoke up.

“Garcia’s family. So you’re family.” the rest of them seemed to agree. You smiled at your apparently newfound family, “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

Although you ended up falling asleep from the drugs that they gave you for the pain, the next few days consisted of getting to know Penelope’s team. Spencer spent hours telling you things and doing magic tricks, while Morgan, JJ, and Emily told you stories of your sister while she sat and laughed. Hotch visited a few times here and there to check up and say hello.

You began to realize soon enough that a new chapter was about to begin, one without abuse, without Joseph, and with your sister that you looked up to more than ever, and her team that treated you like their own. In the beginning, you were told you might not have enough evidence on Joseph to get him arrested, which all of you found to be complete bull. You were completely laid up in a hospital because of him, but in the end, your tech genius sister “accidentally” happened across some illegal files embedded in his computer, along with multiple abuse complaints about him that just so happened to get the court to allow you to live with Penelope, and Joseph in prison.

458 notes · View notes

moonawrites · 4 years

Note

Hello there! prompt : meeting the parents, thanks ♥

Orchid is Euphemia's favourite spot to get her nails done for several reasons. It has a light and airy interior that she enjoys when she's in the mood to relax and get pampered, they serve her favourite champagne, it's conveniently close to her London home, and the auburn haired nail tech she always requests is the most charming young woman she's ever met.

Lily is bright and funny and quick as a whip, and the first time Euphemia had met her 5 months ago, she immediately decided James had to meet her. She'd gone home excited, called her son, and insisted he come by for dinner after work.

Imagine her shock when her darling son flatly refused the second she'd said she found him the perfect girl! Well... okay, it wasn't much of a shock. James is generally a good son. He comes to dinner when she asks and calls her regularly and spoils her with gifts when she insists he doesn't have to. But he can be quite stubborn and refuses her any involvement in his love life. Which, sure, it's fair... she can't deny there have been some missteps on her part, even if her intentions have always been good. But this time is different. Lily is different, she's sure of it.

So she persisted. For months, she had tried to tell James about Lily, how gorgeous and brilliant she is, how well suited they are. But she never got far, always shut down before she got so much as her name out. Then three months ago, he'd dropped another bomb: James was seeing someone, and therefore he could not possibly agree to meet someone else right now. It would be improper and immoral, all the good things she herself had taught him.

James, unfortunately, has a good heart and a good head but quite poor taste in women. So Euphemia did the only sensible thing: she insisted he break up with his mysterious girlfriend and meet the girl she had in mind. It made sense, after all. She knows they're perfect for each other. Predictably, James refused.

Also predictably, he refuses to let Euphemia meet her too. Says she's always too much for the women he dates, but is bound to be worse when she's already biased against her.

Euphemia had toned it down, but not quite relented. An "I wish you'd bring this woman to dinner" here, a "you really won't even tell me her name?" there, and all she gets is an eye roll, occasionally a "you'll track her down with a first name and a city, I don't trust you" or "when the time is right, mum, please let it go." A much less polite "oh my god, kill me now" when she'd suggested one last time that he forget her all together and meet the darling from her spa. One day he'd slipped up and raved about what a talented artist she is, when he'd stopped by for tea after seeing her. He seemed completely enamoured, so finally, Euphemia decided it was time to let it go. Things would work out in due time for her son, there was nothing she could do to control this.

And last month, with a heavy heart, Euphemia had finally put the topic to bed completely, shut it out of her still secretly hopeful heart. James is romantic and impulsive, quite silly really, and so when he makes poor choices, as his mother, Euphemia feels justified in insisting he do better. But Lily... well, when Euphemia had once again suggested she meet her son (she stopped with James, who said she had to stop with Lily too?) she had not laughed it off like usual. She'd admitted that she had been seeing someone for a while, and liked him quite a lot. Lily she trusts to make good choices a bit more, and feels a little less responsible for, so Euphemia just sighed and decided it was time to give up for good.

"How's your mysterious boyfriend?" she asks the redhead now.

Lily's face instantly lights up as she works. "Good. He's good. I mean he's great, really." She glances up at the clock on the wall. "He's picking me up here for lunch, you're my last client today. Maybe you can meet him."

Hm. Euphemia has a meeting to attend to after this, had just barely squeezed it into her calendar, but she's quite curious. Perhaps she will stick around a tiny bit longer, just to see who Lily had chosen over her son. There's only a slight chance he's better than James, but she'd like to see for herself.

"Oh? That's sweet," she says with a smile. "Is he taking you somewhere nice?"

"He always does."

"That's good, a girl like you deserves it."

Lily laughs. "Please be nice to him if you meet him, I feel like you're scarier than my own mum."

"I will be if he deserves it."

And so they chat and Lily works on her nails like usual. Just when Lily's finished up and Euphemia is getting ready to go, the door opens and Lily's face lights up in a radiant smile. Ah, that must be her boyfriend.

Euphemia turns her head curiously to see, and her brows furrow in confusion. That's-

"James!" Lily says breathlessly, walking past Euphemia and right into his waiting arms.

"Hi love," he says, kissing her cheek. "Are you ready to-" and then he freezes, glancing over Lily's shoulder. His face goes a bit pale. "Mum?" Then it goes from panic to anger. "What are you doing here? Did you come to Lily's work to bug her about me? I told you to leave it alone. How did you even find her?" he says, all too quickly, the words tumbling from his mouth faster than his brain can think. "Lily, I'm so sorry, my mum is a lot but-"

Lily interrupts, looking completely lost. "Is... wait, Euphemia is your mother?"

Before he can answer, Euphemia interrupts, marching towards them. "Lily is your girlfriend!?"

James stares between them, completely stunned. "You know each other?"

Lily nods, and suddenly her eyes are dancing with mirth. "She's a regular client. You know the one I said is always asking me to meet her son, and I feel so bad for dating you because she's so nice?"

James stares at his mother in a daze. "Is Lily the girl you...?"

"Have been trying to set you up with for five months? Yes, darling. Keep up. How on earth did you land a girl like this all on your own?"

James narrows his eyes, looking mightily offended while Lily bursts out laughing. "Whose mother are you?"

edit: realized when i first pasted this from my notes app entire paragraphs from the beginning were missing? sorry about that!

#WELL i tried #thank you for the prompt!#jily #drabble #prompt #moona tries to write #my writing #jily fic #jily drabble #james potter #lily evans #euphemia potter

123 notes · View notes

mysticalmusicwhispers · 3 years

Note

hey,,,your thoughts and headcanons on indchuran college au 😳😳😳😳😳(i am very predictable as per usual)

o-o o-o college aus have my heart so thank you for the ask! These turned out as platonic/general hcs but I hope you like them nonetheless! (also this isn’t really associated with any set AU and is separate from the indchuran bros for life AU)

notes: this is based on the little I know about how US colleges/universities work ahahah sorry for any inaccuracies lol

— They’re all in the same year, and China and India got put in a dorm together with Iran next door (oh my god they were roommates ;) )

— They meet when Roshan heard Aditya’s got a copy of a book they wanted, went over to borrow it, and found Aditya trolling Yao with meme songs while the latter was wearing headphones and trying to study (this is kinda half assed and I don’t think it’s funny enough so if you’ve got another meeting scenario please do tell 👀)

— Yao’s fashion is a hot mess, per usual. It’s half lazy college student wear and half blinding eye-strain. Sometimes he still goes edgelord mode and does dark colors and goth attire when he’s particularly annoyed or grumpy (in addition to threatening to evict Aditya/steal all his possessions if he’s bugging Yao); Aditya and Roshan just coo at this.

— Roshan dresses very eccentrically. I think it’s called the art hoe aesthetic? They dress like an art student but pick even more outlandish outfits. But it’s elegant in an eye-catching way, and it makes them stand out a lot. They like it and also love the attention it gets them :) also Roshan would be an amazing person to ask for clothing opinions, except that they might criticize your current outfits too much hksdfsdf

— As for Aditya, I don’t really have a set image for him really? lol I'd give anything to see him dressed in some kind of academia aesthetic (glasses are a bonus), but I feel like his style is more casual and comfy? just average person casual shirts and hoodies. Still knows how to pick good outfits though, but makes awful decisions when in the wrong headspace (like being Severely sleep deprived)

— Yao either studies a) business b) politics c) game theory d) a mix of all three (overachiever). I think he’d also take some of those like, quantum math classes and stuff just to ~expand his horizons~ and ends up taking enough to get a minor in that. Also absorbs STEM stuff from other people although he never went that route :\

— Roshan studies art history! They’re wicked at math as well though, I think they’d definitely be interested in studying pure mathematics as either a minor or a fun side hobby.

— Aditya minors in literature/creative writing and regularly waxes poetic about life. He also complains about the school cafeteria food in flowery prose. Yao yells at him to just make food himself if it’s so bad, but it’s too much effort 😔 (this is literally me)

I’m still undecided on what he majors in, but for now I’m stealing your hc that it’s biophysics :>

— Yao’s tried dabbling in stocks as part class project and part personal side hobby; one of his professors probably helps him with this, and somehow he gets a lot of money even though he invests in some very questionable things that look like shitpost material

— Courtesy of talking with @luyous, these three competitively study during midterms/finals season. They hardcore compete to get the best grades, even though they’re in different majors, and literally. the temperature heats up a couple degrees in the dorm when they’re revising because they all want to “beat” the other two 😭

— Literally they’re such bookworms but have a thirst for being The Best 😔

— Yao has a shit sleep schedule and both Aditya and Roshan have called him out on this multiple times; Aditya more often because they share a room and it’s kind of annoying when your roommate’s desk lamp is still on at 3 AM while you’re supposed to be sleeping. He eventually bought an eye mask for this but still has to forcibly drag Yao to bed at least once a week.

— Aditya is the resident boomer and tech hoe (although he fools around on the computer more than he does useful stuff) inspiration from you raunak <3

— Roshan and Aditya once tricked Yao into watering a fake plant they bought from Target for a full five months :) They keep a log of the shenanigans on their respective social medias as proof <3

— Roshan has a windowsill with a line of very cute potted plants! It’s very aesthetic and they show them off to anyone who asks. Don’t touch though because the plants are their babies

— Aditya sings very well! Has perfect pitch and all that. Does karaoke nights with friends, drags Yao along even though all he does there is type away on his laptop (and sometimes glances up to simp for Aditya). Often prank calls acquaintances, occasionally with Roshan, because he’s also pretty good at voice acting

— Out of the three, Aditya’s probably the friendliest if you’re a stranger, but it do be hard trying to build a friendship with any of them 😔 yao’s condescending to strangers and it takes some time to crack him if you don’t come off as quick-witted and smart on the first try, Roshan doesn’t really take people they just met super seriously unless they can impress/charm them, Aditya’s flashy but is kinda flaky and sometimes talks down to you and seems to always have something else to do besides hanging out one on one unless you win his respect. They’re good with each other though, occasional spats are mostly misunderstandings unless there’s Too Much miscommunication going on

— They’re all kinda legends for academic achievements. Roshan probably got a paper published in some vaunted journal about idk, changing methods of making pottery in ancient Iran or something; Yao has his stocks (and is also kinda rich in the first place so he’s “famous” before that) and Aditya probably got an internship or opportunity to do lab work for a cutting edge research thing

— they no-homo each other all the time it’s insane. It doesn’t help that they’re in close quarters (Yao and Aditya being roommates and Roshan right next door) so it’s like, accidentally wearing the other’s clothes, stealing snacks, so much touching and closeness lol classic pining material

— Yao jokes at least once a day that Roshan is just a parasite of his and Aditya’s dorm, with the amount of time they spend in there instead of in their own dorm, but they sniff haughtily and say that at least their dorm is much more organized than whatever indchu have going on (it’s true; Yao believes in organized chaos and pretends his organization system is having No Organization; Aditya just does whatever he wants and “anyways I’ll find it when I need it”, Roshan is the only sane one here)

— Roshan drinks tea religiously (all three of them do, but Yao chugs energy drinks sometimes, Aditya binges coffee when needed, whereas Roshan’s solution is tea)

— They’re kinda chaotic but it’s fine they’ll make it through uni :)

24 notes · View notes

moeyy-writes · 4 years

Text

Here and Now - Part 1

Zak Bagans x Reader

Warnings: hints at family issues, mild fluff.

Word Count: 1,822

A/N: Great, what have I gotten myself into? This started as a random idea that was in no way planned. I didn’t even think it would be something worth posting. Now, it’s becoming a series that I’m praying I’ll be able to update regularly. I don’t really know where it’s going yet. I guess we’ll find out together. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!

My Master List || Also on AO3 || Series Master List

“Yes Mom.” You sighed. “No, I won’t be. I’ll be filming that week.” Another sigh. “No, I’m not going to be looking for another job.” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back over the back of your folding chair. “Mom, this is what I want to do—Okay. Love you too.”

You tossed your phone over onto the table in front of you and sighed. You loved your parents, but they didn’t quite understand when you told them you were leaving your cozy job as a nurse to hunt ghosts. Your mom blamed your long-time friend, Jay Wasley, for “luring” you into the field. Every time you talked to her, she begged you to rejoin the medical field, but there was nothing that could convince you to do anything else than be a part of the Ghost Adventures team.

You loved joining the guys on investigations, being the main audio-visual tech for the last year. That allowed Billy and Jay to be more involved in the investigations, which was especially helpful when investigating the larger sites.

Not to mention, you were working with some of the nicest people you had ever met.

You never second guessed the career change. When the guys asked you to be a part of the team, you jumped on it without even giving it another thought. Jay and you had both taken film classes in college, but you changed majors after your family urged you to find something “more career friendly”. He knew you loved working with different types of cameras and had a very keen eye for the slightest hints of evidence on the screen. And the other men on the team couldn’t agree more.

As you let out a long sigh, you heard footsteps to your left. You glanced over to a tall, spiky-haired figure illuminated by the sun behind.

“Hey Zak,” you greeted the leader of your team. He lowered himself down into the chair beside you and smiled. His sunglasses were sliding down his nose, and the wide brim of his hat shielded your eyes slightly from the sun.

“Hey, what was all of that about?” he questioned, nodding towards your phone. You just shrugged and huffed out a frustrated breath.

“It’s just my mom. You know, same shit, different day. She’s constantly questioning my ‘career choice’ and telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing.” You closed your eyes. “She only sees a job for the money.”

Zak nodded. “Yeah, well some people see that. Some people do something because they know the pay check is going to be awesome, and the title is going to make them look good to everyone else.” You laughed.

“Yeah, well, the pay check isn’t too shabby for you, is it?” you both laughed and turned to the building in front of you. It was another location, and the interviews were going to start shortly. You decided to make a small station to set up and charge cameras between interviews, and keep a few pieces of equipment handy for any impromptu investigating.

You glanced away, trying to ignore the intense set of butterflies in your stomach whenever Zak was near you. Sure, you had met him several times before you became part of the team. Hell, he was one of the people who fought for your spot on the show. But, you didn’t know a whole lot about the man at your side. Jay had filled you in on the basics of his life, but that was about it. Sure, he was goofy, nerdy, and a little bit full of himself. But, he was also a kind and friendly guy, something you weren’t really expecting.

He had welcomed you with open arms, as they all did. He made sure that you always felt included when you wanted to be and checked in with you whenever there was an emotionally heavy case. You wouldn’t tell anyone in the media, but he was secretly the caretaker of the group.

So, it was no wonder he was sitting beside you after hearing your phone call. He could sense when something was off about a crew member. It was definitely something unique about Zak Bagans.

“Do you ever second guess being here? Leaving the nursing field?” You shook your head adamantly.

“Not for a second. I became a nurse because my dad is a doctor and pressured me into joining the same field. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to help people in another way.” You peered over at Jay, who was fiddling with Aaron’s camera. “Thanks to Jay, I’m here doing just that.”

“Well, we all agreed for you to join. To be honest, it’s been really nice having a different perspective on everything. You always find the best positions for the static-vision and x-cameras, and always find logical reasons for our equipment malfunctions. You have a gift, Y/N.” You could feel your cheeks redden at Zak’s words. You ran your fingers through your hair.

“Thanks, Zak. That means a lot.” Your gaze flicked back to your phone for a moment. “I know my parents love me and want what’s best for me. I just wish that they knew I’m at the age where I can find that out for myself.” Zak nodded, loosely crossing his legs.

“They do love you. There are plenty of people who love you, Y/N. And we’re all here for you.” You leaned back a little, raising a brow.

“Plenty of people? Like who?” Your heart fluttered, secretly wondering if he was implying something more behind his words. Could he be? No, not Zak. That wasn’t like him.

Zak smirked. “Well, I freaking hope you know by now that the crew loves you. Jay’s known you for what, at least a decade? More? Aaron and you have that never-ending prank war thing that I swear is going to be the death of one of you. From the second time you met, I knew you were pretty much platonic soulmates. And watching you and Billy geek out over equipment together makes me smile. Nerds.”

You nodded, practically beaming. Zak always knew what to say and when to say it, at least most of the time.

“And I think you’re a great addition to the team. You’re smart, fun to be around. It’s like you’ve been with us since the beginning.” You didn’t know what else to do but smile. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Sure, Zak was usually sweet and uplifting, but this was a lot coming from him. He was rarely this intense.

“That means a lot, Zak. I’m really glad to be working with everyone. I really do love you all too.” You and Zak stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again.

“You know, you’re really a special person, Y/N. Your parents know that, the team knows that, And I definitely know that.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, then cleared his throat. Was he nervous? Zak Bagans, nervous? Huh.

“Uh, thanks Zak. Really.” He was kind of repeating himself, like he was trying to hint at something he was too afraid to say. You had never heard him talk like this before. He was always super straightforward and blunt, never talking in code or hiding meaning behind his words.

“And, I was wondering if you were, um, interested in hanging out more outside of here? You know, outside of the show?” You furrowed your brow.

“We do hang out. I mean, we all meet for lunch or dinner, and meet at each other’s houses—”

“I know, but I meant you and me. You know, just the two of us.” Your brow shot up as your stomach swirled.

“Um, are you asking me out Mr. Bagans?” No fucking way. He couldn’t be. There’s no way Zak Bagans would be asking you out.

“Yep. Yeah, I am.” Oh, you stood corrected.

“Well, I, uh, yeah. That sounds awesome.” You studied his confident smirk.

Zak nodded to himself. “Awesome,” he repeated. “Let’s focus on this lockdown, then we’ll work out the details. But, I know of a great place I want to bring you to.” He reached over and gently placed his hand on top of yours.

You flipped your hand over and wrapped it around his. “I can’t wait.” And that was the God-honest truth. Your whole life flipped in the best possible way over the last several minutes, and your head was reeling as you tried to accept your new reality.

You were dating, or about to date, Zak Bagans.

“Hey, Zak, we’re almost ready to go!” Jay called over. Zak perked his head up.

“I’ll be right there!” He squeezed your hand, then pulled away. As he stood, he offered his award-winning smile, then made it over to his friends.

You really needed to get your camera ready, but you couldn’t move. Your brain was still struggling to process. Not only was this whole thing something you never dreamed of, it completely came out of left field. Zak was a natural flirt, but you didn’t think he flirted with you more than any other woman he met. He was respectful, avoiding any type of sexual jokes, and making sure he called out the others if anything made you noticeably uncomfortable. That was half the reason your brain was still currently malfunctioning.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, shocking you from your thoughts. You unlocked your phone and opened your messages.

New Message: Jay Wasleyyyy

You studied the message, which was a simple thumbs up emoji. You glanced up at your buddy, who shared your gaze, standing beside a grinning Aaron. Great. Sure, Jay knew about how you felt towards Zak. It was hard to keep it a secret sometimes, especially from someone who had known you as long as Jay did. He obviously knew that Zak was up to something too. Sneaky bastard.

But, now Aaron wasn’t going to leave you alone about it. Joy. All you needed was your goofy friend poking at you as singing ridiculous songs about love and shit.

Another message pinged, forcing you to glanced back down at your phone.

New Message: Zak Attack

It was another wordless message, with a black heart and a winking face emoji. Totally Zak’s dorky yet oddly suave style.

You stared at the message, suddenly giddy with excitement. Now that your brain had come back down to Earth, you were nothing but excited about what was to come. You had no idea what Zak had up his sleeve, or how the two of you were going to do in a romantic relationship, but there was an odd exhilaration in not knowing.

With a long exhale, you silenced your phone and slipped it into your pocket. Then, you lifted your camera from the table in front of you and headed off to join your team.

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated! <3

#zak bagans #zak bagans x reader #zak bagans and reader #zak x reader #zak bagans x reader fluff #zak bagans series #zak bagans x reader series #aaron goodwin #jay wasley #billy tolley #ghost adventures #gac #zak bagans reader insert #ghost adventures imagine #ghost adventures series

126 notes · View notes

onelastbreath-writes · 4 years

Text

On Bruce And Texting:

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome, this is my first properly written fic, originally posted to my AO3, and now that I have finally created a writing blog, it’s here as well. Please enjoy!! AO3. Masterlist

Warnings: Hopefully none, its all cute and fluff <3

Summary: Bruce Wayne texts like he's sending correspondences to the Queen, so of course the little monsters he calls children just have to make fun of him! Brats, the lot of them, but he wouldn't have them any other way.

Features: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, all the bats and birds, mentions JL, no crime fighting, only family fluff, jokes and nods to Millennial and GenZ shenanigans.

Word Count: 2.7k

---

Billionaire, genius, tech expert, father of many children, and all around up-to-date-with-just-about-everything type of person he may be, it is also a well-known Fact that Bruce Wayne, the Batman(TM) himself, can’t text to save his life.

Whether it’s due to his Very Proper English Upbringing, his inability to be informal via written correspondences of any type, his indifference, or the fact that it bothers his children so much, Bruce Wayne has not and never will text with anything less than perfect grammar, spelling, and formality. If he has not sent you a proper letter (featuring a dedication, indentation for every paragraph, signature, and post-script when applicable), he did, in fact, not send you that text. Informality is not his Batman Way(TM) according to his children... he’s not too sure what that even means, but it makes his young ones laugh so it’s probably fine?

His oldest children (Richard and Jason) were raised in the time of Change, where computers, internet access, social media, and all things similar were only just being introduced into households en-masse. They were young enough to remember a time without such devices and connectivity (both for very different reasons, of course, but they grew up without the newest technology none-the-less). They could understand his relationship to the digital environment more so than his younger children, but they still tended to poke fun at his ‘texting blunders’ regularly. All his kids somehow ended up as brats. He doesn’t know how this happened. It’s certainly not his fault. He blames the League members, and especially Clark Kent, for their defiant personalities.

His younger children, whom he loves dearly, like to confuse him as much as they possibly can with their slang, egregious spelling errors, and all-around ‘internet humour’. He doesn’t know what ‘wig’ or ‘worm’ or ‘oof’ or anything means. He has no idea what those dances are, or how they relate to the music that seems to always accompany them, and for the love of all that is good, don’t ask him what he thinks of this or that ‘meme’. What even is a ‘meme’, and should he be more concerned about his kids being obsessed with them? He tries, oh my god, does he try to follow the children’s conversations, but they somehow all learned a language he has no idea how to decrypt. His best response to them once they start speaking in tongues is as follows: smile but not too much, listen to child even though he is deeply confused, and pat child on head or shoulder when they are finished and are looking for assurance.

He refuses to be a parent who ignores or tunes out his children, so he always makes sure to put down his work, his crossword, his tools, or whatever else is in his hands when a child searches him out for a conversation. But somehow, despite all the time he spends around them and their strange words, when he gets text from them comprised of abbreviations, acronyms, and completely random words, he goes a little cross eyed. He would never tell anyone, but he keeps a running list on his phone about the things they say that he has had to translate in the past. Spilling tea? Speaking the truth, usually to do with gossip. Wow? Multiple possible meanings: either a video game, or someone saying it (different pronunciation depending on context and who sent the text). Stickbug? A nice little prank with no ulterior motives, just for fun. Something along the lines of “this basic bitch Karen at the grocery store who is a dirty rat-licker and is def an anti-vaxxer just took 45 (forty-five) minutes to decide she didn’t actually want that almond milk. I Stan the cashier who had to put up with her. Rad af dude.” roughly translates to “A rude, middle-aged white woman who wasn’t wearing a mask and doesn’t believe in disease control or vaccinating her children wasted a great deal of an essential worker’s time in the checkout line. The cashier was very professional in their dealings with said customer and should be commended on their actions.”

Given enough time, the internet for searching up new slang words, and occasionally some help from a friend (Alfred, Selina, Lucius, another of his children, etc), Bruce could decode and respond appropriately to most texts. He was quite proud of these achievements, and although he didn’t always like how often his children were on their phones or computers or gaming systems, he was quite proud of how integrated and easily they adapted to the ever-evolving world of electronics. All his kids were gifted in many ways, but their ability to learn, their hunger for knowledge, and their perseverance when exploring new and challenging ideas were always the things that he was most impressed by.

He could do without their comments though. Yes, surprisingly, he did manage to get girlfriends with his type of texting. No, he doesn’t miss the ‘good old days’ when telegraphs were the main form of long-distance correspondence (how old do these brats think he is?!). And yes, he does know what a “tweet” is, and how to “post” on his social media accounts, and what “sliding into your DMs” is (thanks to a frantic search after a WE employee mentioned it near him). The Wayne children, truly whom and what Bruce considers his pride and joy, are cruel little jerks to him sometimes. His hoard of parenting books fails to mention what one should do when their children gang up on them. Bullying is covered of course, but he can’t really talk to a teacher or his guardian about how his second son calls him an idiot sandwich, or that his third son regularly tries to get him to do something “For The Vine”. His oldest and youngest boys are only slightly better in the bullying him department; Richard and his puppy dog eyes when he wants to do something dangerous or not-Alfred-approved, and Damian and his growing collection of pets because “Mother never let me have them, and I am deprived, and don’t you love me Father?”.

His only good child is his beautiful daughter Cassandra, the flower of the Wayne clan. She gives him hugs, and pats his hands, and can sit with him and just enjoy the quiet and stillness when his other children are not around. Her language skills are improving by leaps and bounds every day, and her heart and spirit are unparalleled, but her main method of communication is in her movements. Her hands, her posture, her dancing; Bruce couldn’t think of a more graceful, fluid, powerful person if the world depended on it. His amazing little girl doesn't bully him (and if she ever does, he probably deserves it, he trusts her), so he turns to her most of all when it comes to communicating with someone else. She doesn’t let him send anything that is “sketchy” or “wrong words, bad meaning, Dad”. He would give the world to his children, but for Cassandra, he would destroy it and build her an entirely new one.

Social media, especially with his terrible children all having accounts dedicated to making him look like a simpleton, was another rocky terrain he had to navigate on the regular. He had professionals in place at WE to run the company’s many accounts, paid top dollar to help appeal and relate to the masses, but he mostly had to manage his personal accounts himself. And so, @TheRealBruceWayne was one of the greatest struggles in his adult life. Why can’t he just retweet every post from @WE_Offical and leave it at that? People should only want to know about what’s new with the company. What do you mean they want to know more about our family and private lives? That’s unnecessary, and not important to the running of the company, right? Right? Why are you laughing?!

Luckily, most people in his life aren’t so intimately aware of his struggles. He can act and lie all he wants about being “hip” and “woke” and whatever else the kids are saying these days when he’s with the JL or in board meeting intermissions, networking with his associates. The Batman knows all and sees all, Green Lantern, of course he understands how “Tiktok” works. The Batman is a robot without a funny bone in his body, Green Arrow, but I did witness him sigh and say “same” when he knocked his cup of coffee over while on monitor duty once. No matter how badly his darling children call him out, the Justice League would be so much worse. So, it’s one of his most importantly guarded secrets... even more so than his secret identity at this point. Being unmasked in front of every Gotham rogue would be less detrimental to him than his “friends” learning of his utter ineptitude in staying on top of the younger generations’ lingo.

When questioned why the League doesn’t have a group chat or a forum or anything that they can use to contact each other outside of world ending matters and communicator (”because we’re friends, Batman! Ma and Pa Kent would love to have everyone over for a barbecue!”), the person who dared even mention texting isn’t even given a verbal response. They are just glared at, silently, often for several uninterrupted minutes, frozen in place only able to breathe shallowly in fear of setting off the Bat. “You know why” his glare says, “I’ll eat you, your family, and everything you have ever held dear” the younger members hear. No one makes the mistake of asking about it twice.

Outside of his children and Alfred, and his small circle of true friends involved in all aspects of his life, there is only one more person Bruce allows to know of his Darkest Secret. Selina. Someone most people would recommend he not be involved with. Catwoman: accomplished thief, distraction, chaos-incarnate most nights, and his significant other. Sharp as a whip (ha) and crafty like no one’s business; he is head-over-heels. On again/Off again and all over the place their long romance has been, but no one has ever challenged him, intrigued him, like this clever, beautiful, amazing woman has. He’s brought his partners around his children before, both for their judgement, and for their worst behaviours to vet out any “unworthy” suitors. He trusts them explicitly to tell him the truth about those he allows into the manor; were they rude about Bruce wanting to have group outings, did they say something about Bruce’s money, did they get angry or shout or make anyone uncomfortable while they were here? If his children even looked slightly unhappy with someone he brought them to meet, that person would not be invited back. Children, he finds, have the best sight when meeting people; no motives other than finding safety and love, no fear of consequences from speaking honestly...

Selina, or Catwoman, as they had known her first, was someone all of his kids liked without issue right off the bat. She would make puns and play word games with Richard, his first Robin, tiny, still working on his English, able to connect with him over their acrobatic abilities. His second Robin, Jason, skittish and feisty as an alley cat, knew of Catwoman and her daring escapades long before Bruce found him. The young boy had a few heroes, and no one (not even Wonder Woman) could compare to the incredible burglar who bought food and jackets and medicine for the street kids in Crime Alley. She was saintly in his eyes, and to this day, Bruce was still working on convincing Jason he was good enough for Selina. Tim and Cass and Stephanie (basically another daughter to Bruce, she spends so much time with the family) all joined the Wayne clan around the same time and officially met Selina as a friend and partner of his, and in the good graces of his first two sons. Selina, in all her nightly business, and many travels and acquaintances, had met the three independently, helping Tim get home safely back to Drake Manor when he escaped to photograph Batman and Robin in the dank darkness of Gotham when he was just a young boy, spending some time with Cassandra when her despicable father left her alone long enough to recover from his rough treatment, showing her the first scraps of kindness in her short life, and watching over and protecting Stephanie as she followed and sabotaged her father Cluemaster and his criminal activities. There was no need to win them over once they met her civilian identity, she had already gained their favour and acceptance, and they were happy to have her near their new family. Damian, his youngest, his biological son, took the longest to warm up to Selina. He would never fault his little boy for fighting so hard against a woman that was not his birth mother, especially after all the manipulation and cruelty dealt to him by Talia for the first decade of his life. But as he began to learn about his father, these people in his father’s life, and this woman that was Not His Mother but “still okay, I guess”, he grew to see her as acceptable. Her cats definitely helped, he’d say, no one with cats that loyal and happy can be a bad person.

Selina, the love of his life, he’d admit quietly to himself, was also a dirty traitor and in cahoots with his terrible children. She would say his texting skills were “sweet” and “very gentlemanly” when she was asked by anyone outside the family, and privately to him she would say she thought they were “adorable” and “please don’t ever change, Bruce, I like it.” However, nothing seemed to bring her more joy than his children sending her texts and “Snaps” and “memes” about him to her. Sometimes it was screenshots of the family group chat that they forced him to join, where he would post “To whom it may concern...” and “In regards to...” when he needed to reach all his delinquents in a timely manner. Sometimes it was video clips of him staring at his phone intently, then typing something on his laptop, then him reading and nodding along, and then finally going back and responding to the text he received with a small, pleased smile. And sometimes, when he got too injured or was too incapacitated to text coherently, he’d have his nearest able child transcribe his text to her. Depending on who was texting her for Bruce, she could expect many different things. From Dick, she’d get lots of shorthand and silly emojis, and many, many, winky and crying/laughing faces in brackets depending on what Bruce had made him type. Jason, bless him, used proper English most of the time, but would never write a single word of Bruce’s soliloquy to her, instead she enjoyed the TL;DR version: “hurt again, missing you, come home soon, blah blah blah, sappy gross words here, love you”. Tim would allow speech recognition to run on Bruce’s phone, and just let it go until the man passed out. Stephanie, the little chaos child, would film it and send it to her, including all her muffled laughter and shaky camera shots of Bruce emoting with his available undamaged limbs. Cass, still more versed in physicality and emotive movement, would interpret Bruce’s text into mostly emojis, hearts and happy faces and animals, but would include photos, and phrases that she found important enough to type out for Selina. Damian, forever his Father’s son in any way possible, texts very formally, referring to her or his siblings Bruce mentions by last name only, and lots of “Father requests me to tell you...” and “Kyle, know that Father...”. She adores these kids, and once Bruce recovers enough to text her himself, or she gets back to the Manor, they get to laugh about whatever she was sent this time.

So, while it’s true that Bruce couldn’t text his way out of a wet paper bag, and his kids are sometimes brats about it, there’s probably a lot of different reasons he doesn’t spend too much time trying to improve his skills. Whether it’s the smiles of his children, the giggles of his significant other, or the warm feeling in his chest when he sees all his important people bonding over him, well, in the end, who’s to say?

#batman #batfam #bruce/selina #batcat #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bruce x selina

9 notes · View notes

gffa · 5 years

Photo

WHY I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND THE CGI IN THE PREQUELS--They were doing some pretty mind-bogglingly new stuff that had never been done before and creating all these tools and techniques that are still being used today and, honestly, while not everything holds up, a shocking amount of it does. The work that went into The Phantom Menace really was amazing: ‘ALL FILMS ARE PERSONAL’: AN ORAL HISTORY OF STAR WARS: EPISODE I THE PHANTOM MENACE [x] ‘Well, This is the Future’ Once in production, The Phantom Menace would lean heavily on digital effects and technology, with more visual effects shots than any film in ILM’s history. John Knoll: I think the first time I really got exposed to what was ahead of us — I suppose the first thing was we read the script. There were, I think, three or four of us: myself, [visual effects supervisor] Dennis Muren, I forget who else was there. I think there were three or four of us, went out to the Ranch. There was one copy of the script [Laughs] and so basically what it is, we sat together in a room, and somebody started and would hand off the page that they had just read to the next person in the line. I don’t know, I was third in line or something, and I would get the pages and read them and hand them on. It was pretty overwhelming. I had a million questions because you’re reading it written on a page, you can imagine a lot of different ways that that could be executed. That could be a full set, the alien character that’s being discussed, I haven’t seen a design yet so I don’t know whether that’s just a guy in a suit or what. Initially reading through the script it seemed like it was a pretty big and ambitious thing. Sometime later we had — and there’s video of this, I think it’s on the making-of video — we saw the storyboards. George had the art department draw up storyboards for the whole movie. It was 3,600 storyboards, something like that. George walked us through all the storyboards. It wasn’t just telling us what was going on and this is this and that, he was also kind of mixing in what he was thinking about [for] shooting methodology. He had a number of colored highlighters, he had a magenta, a blue, and yellow highlighters, and as he was going down, things that he was going to shoot in front of a blue screen he’d scribble blue where he’d imagine the blue screen would be, and I think yellow was for live-action, and magenta was for CG characters like Jar Jar or battle droids or whatever. He sort of went through that, he went, “Yeah, it’s going to be this,” sort of telling us what was happening in all the frames. I was used to a situation where almost every show we did there was something that we were doing that was new, that we’d have to develop new tools or new techniques to do, but it’s like almost every storyboard was something that we hadn’t done before or didn’t have tools that could do. I was taking notes the whole time, making note of all the things we were going to have to do in R&D, or new things that would have to be developed to handle doing dense scenes with thousands of characters in them, or robust cloth simulations, or rigid body dynamics. There was a pretty long list of things. I walked out of that meeting with my head spinning, because it was not only massive in terms of sheer shot number, but in terms of all the new tech that has to be developed to get it done.

Rob Coleman: I remember going back to California and building the team up, and doing the early animations, and as time went on, I started really suffering in terms of insomnia and stress and freaking out, and I knew the world was waiting for this film. After a couple of months, three months, I actually drove up to Skywalker Ranch to resign the job to George. So I booked the time in to see him, and I went in there and I started fumbling and saying all this stuff through three hours of sleep, or whatever I had. He’s like, “What are you talking about?” I said, “Well, just, the world is waiting for this, and the pressure of this, and I’m not sure if I can perform, and…” He goes, “Hey, hey, hey, wait. You’re working for one person. You gotta make one person happy. That’s me, and I’m happy. I think the animation you guys are doing is great.” I said, “Y-you do?” He said, “Yeah. It’s great. It’s my problem to worry about the world, and I’m not even worried about them. We’re making these films for me. You’re making me happy, so you can relax, and you can go back down to ILM and everything will be fine.” I was the happiest guy driving back down Lucas Valley Road. I was like, “Oh, my God!” From that point on, I was fine. I slept like a baby, I was able to do it, I was able to focus on it. George Lucas: You don’t really start something unless you think you’re right, and think that you’re on the right track and what you’re doing is going to be great. It never occurs to you that it’s not going to work. Otherwise you wouldn’t do it. That’s what keeps people from doing things. So I didn’t worry about that part. I knew that the process of making a film was very difficult, and most of it was grounded in nineteenth century technology — or older than that, actually. And it had just reached its limits and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. That was especially true in visual effects. And it was through visual effects that I began to realize we had the power and the knowledge to develop something that really would make a big difference. I started that whole process. I wanted to raise my kids, so I retired, but I spent my time building up the company and at the same time developing this digital technology. Rob Coleman: As reference, I think there were around 200 [effects] shots in Men in Black, and there were 2,000 shots in Phantom Menace. John Knoll: I’ll give you an example of some of the things we had to develop. I think prior to Episode I, the most complicated CG animation we had ever done was on Mars Attacks!, years before. We had one or two shots that had like 16 or 18 Martians in it, and they all had the little spacesuits and the helmets and their props and all of that. But that nearly brought the whole system down to its knees because having that many rigged characters in a scene at once just was more than the systems could handle at the time. I was regularly seeing shots where there were 50 battle droids, or a big battle scene where there are two characters fighting in the foreground, but the background had hundreds or thousands of characters back there. This is a whole order of magnitude of higher complexity than we dealt with, so we’re going to need to have systems for managing that level of complexity. And then a few years before, I think it was maybe ’95, we had done Spawn. There was a number of shots where Spawn’s cape does something magical, and we’d done cloth simulations for that that didn’t look super realistic, and it was fine for the movie because it was kind of stylized. The cape was almost a character in itself. We didn’t have a particularly good or usable cloth simulation system. But looking at the designs of the characters, they’re all wearing clothing. Jar Jar has clothing, and Boss Nass has clothing, and Watto has clothing, and we’re going to have to do digital doubles of the Jedi to do some of stunty things that we can’t shoot for real, and they need to have their cloaks and all of that. We’re going to need to have a good cloth simulation package in there. And we said, all right, we’re going to have to develop that. And then we had — there were lots of shots of Jedi cutting through battle droids, so the pieces of the battle droid clatter down onto the ground and that’s hard to animate completely from scratch, and there were so many shots, that, all right, we can’t fake it through that. We need to have a rigid body dynamic system. These were the things I’d been seeing at SIGGRAPH and technical papers about how to do those believable physical collisions, and we’re going to need a robust rigid body simulation system that’s integrated into our pipeline. It was just a lot of that kind of stuff. All these things that I knew were technically possible; we didn’t have any tools that did that. Rob Coleman: Part of my problem was, for months, there was no crowd system, which meant there was no Gungan battle. No ability for my team to animate hundreds of characters back then. It just didn’t exist. I remember there was one line in the script that said something along the lines of “The Gungan army walks out to battle.” That was six months of work — that one sentence. You were like, “Holy [expletive], how do we do that?” And that was one sentence out of a 100-page script. Ultimately, it was a matter of acquiring the right tools to accomplish what George Lucas was asking, using the latest versions of software already available, or developing new techniques. Rob Coleman: We had a database with all the different Gungan walks, runs, throws, falls, fights. We had little vignettes. We’d have Gungans and battle droids, upwards of five of them together in a little cluster, and we’d animate that. And then we could put that cluster into any shot, and we could rotate it, and it wouldn’t look the same to the camera. So we could create a finite number of those and then we could place them, and we’d actually get a fair amount of movement into the shot. We’d just be able to use it over and over again, and we’d put some hero work in the foreground, and the audience would never know. Jean Bolte: Back then they called it Viewpaint, it was the first software that was developed to paint onto computer graphic models. I was the Viewpaint supervisor. Most people know this, but Viewpaint was a huge leap forward in Jurassic Park. Dennis [Muren] has always acknowledged that. As I have stated publicly, I don’t want to make it sound like I think my job was the most important contribution to computer graphics, but it was a very important one. The work that we were able to do, because we could paint onto the models, transformed the look of everything. Up until then we’d had The Abyss water tentacle, we had the mercury man in T2, very simple, very rudimentary, you know, the shading on things didn’t allow for very much believability, really. What we were able to do with the paint software, even in the very early, early stages there on Jurassic — I didn’t work on Jurassic, but I was having a good look at it. They were able to contribute a bump surface and a paint surface to give things the scale pattern, the aging, obviously the color, the different qualities of specularity. And in addition to that, for anything that was hard surface, there’s the aging that comes into making something rusty or dented or scratched. And when you have that, suddenly a thing has a story. It has a history. In addition to it having the believability, you can introduce the backstory as to, why did it get dented here? Why are the scales roughed up in this area? What kind of creature is this thing? Is it dry? Does it hunt? Is it an apex predator? Is it moist? All of that stuff is the story. So even if you’re making a creature that has never been seen before, you can kind of establish what its niche is in nature, and then contribute all of that to the look of it. The dinosaurs in Jurassic, that was a huge breakthrough to be able to see that. So the software being very rudimentary still functioned and continued to update. Every project there were things that were written into the software and in our technique and approach that allowed us to get more and more realism. The Phantom Menace featured several completely digital characters. Jar Jar Binks, played through motion-capture by Ahmed Best, would be the most high-profile, a supporting character that shared screen time with our heroes. Initially, the idea was for Best to perform in a suit and have Jar Jar’s neck and head created digitally, but this proved more costly and labor-intensive than just using a full CG model. Watto, the junk dealer, and Sebulba, Anakin’s rival podracer, were two other completely CG characters that played prominent roles. Ahmed Best: George wanted a character that was part-Goofy, but very physically aware. He really moved me toward what eventually became the walk. He wanted me to move slower, longer. Jar Jar was taller than I am, so he really wanted Jar Jar’s head to move in a specific way, so that forced me to try to come up with a physicality so that Jar Jar could move in a way that would work once animated. But a lot of it was just a collaboration of movement, me giving George options, and him saying, “Yeah, more like that.” The voice was the same thing. It was just me giving George options, and he was like, “Yeah, do that one. Do that voice.” George Lucas: I was tired of putting masks on people. I was much more interested in having them be all-digital so you could do more things with them. More freedom.

Ahmed Best: Jar Jar’s character, the movement and the motivation, was really based off of Buster Keaton. George really honed into that aesthetic when it came to me. Jean Bolte: Casper had a speaking character, Dragonheart, that was a speaking character, but there was something about Jar Jar being a character in this film that was a huge step further. I mean, he had to work in so much of the film in so many different environments. He had to sit there and interact as if he was somebody George had cast and put into a suit. Ahmed Best: It was great. I loved it. It never really felt like I was this other thing. It felt like we were all actors in the movie working together. This whole idea of me being in the movie or not being in the movie never occurred to all of us while we were shooting. It was never a separate thing and, subsequently, that’s what mo-cap has become now. It’s become actors in the movie, doing the motion, and then animation later building the realized, fantastical look of the character. But the actors are an integral part of the filmmaking and an integral part of the collaboration. And that kind of started with Phantom Menace. Rob Coleman: I believed in my crew, and I believed that I’d understood what George was looking for from a performance point of view. Ahmed Best: After principal [photography], I spent probably another year and a half, maybe two years, going back and forth between ILM and New York working out some of the kinks. That final battle scene with all the Gungans and the droids and the battle tanks, that was me, George, Rob [Coleman], John [Knoll], everybody at ILM, up in San Francisco figuring it out. It was just us in a room, there was nobody else there. I was doing all the motion that Jar Jar did in the final battle scene. George really wanted that to feel like not only just a live-action battle, but he wanted it to have the same physical comedy as a Buster Keaton movie. We worked really hard on that final battle scene. Jean Bolte: One of the things about this film is that this is what George wanted. He wanted them to have a similar kind of quality to the animatronic characters who also were not necessarily always 100 percent believable. But they had a charm to them, they had a life in them. That was more important than anything. I think Jar Jar has this quality. Ahmed Best: For me, it was just such a joy to be as creative as I wanted to be because I knew I had so much room. And George was really generous with the amount of room he gave me to bring Jar Jar to life. Doug Chiang: Watto was completely out of nowhere, and that scared me, because the genesis of Watto was that I did an early trader baron portrait that George really liked. The story of that character changed eventually, but he liked that. One day he came in and said, “Remember that portrait of the trader baron? Take that portrait, let’s put on a body, and add the feet, and add bat wings.” And that was the brief! It scared me because it didn’t make any sense, and I thought it was going to be a complete cartoony character that people are going to laugh at. I remember we spent weeks and weeks designing it, trying to make it very real, and George kept saying the same thing. And then literally one day I said, “Okay, I’m going to take George exactly at his word, and draw exactly that.” And it worked. One of my big appreciations for George is that he can push us quite a bit. I learned to trust him that he knows what he wants, and he will then stop us if we’ve gone too far. And right now Watto is one of my favorite characters. Rob Coleman: The amazing thing about The Phantom Menace, I think, certainly for the ILM animators, is we were moving from putting creatures in scenes to actually being actors in the movie. This is what I was trying to get across to them. The notion of getting up and acting things out. Talking about what’s happening internally inside a character’s head. Do they believe in what they’re saying? What do they want from the scene? Everything you would talk to an actor about I was trying to teach these animators. Jean Bolte: The main characters, Sebulba, Watto, and Jar Jar, were things that I had painted. Those were great. I mean, Jar Jar, obviously, was an important character. I remember that Doug Chiang [paid] very, very close attention to him. After there was artwork from Doug, and the model, then I would do the texture paint on it, and then Doug Chiang would take a frame render and paint on it. The next morning I’d come in, I’d see what he had done, have a meeting with him, I would incorporate those changes into Jar Jar. That process went on every day for weeks and weeks and weeks. Rob Coleman: I remember showing [a test of Watto] to George, and he was so excited that he showed him to Frank [Oz], who was doing the actual rubber puppet of Yoda on that first one. And then Frank said to George, “Well, this is the future.” And George was just beaming. The centerpiece action sequence of the film is the podrace, a fast, furious race between Anakin Skywalker and a smattering of strange aliens, through a course that includes a stadium, caves, rocky terrain, and the occasional Tusken Raider sniper. John Knoll: I had been playing around with a desktop tool that did two-dimensional physics simulations. It was called Interactive Physics. You could draw 2D shapes and you could have gravity and drag, and you could attach springs or chains to them and let them collide, and kind of do what they do. Seeing the designs for the podracers, they’re supposed to be suspended on repulsors, like Luke’s speeder, where they just sort of hover, and if you disturb them they have a kind of springy action to them. So they’re supposed to be just kind of hovering there, and then the cables go back to the cockpit. I just kept thinking that they should be, as they’re driving along, bouncing and springing and kind of look like they’re being held up by springs.

I used this Interactive Physics program to build a top down version of a podracer in 2D, where I had two engines and chains that went back to a cockpit. Then I attached thrusts to the engines, and I hooked them together by a spring network. I would jostle them a little bit and they would have this nice secondary springy motion that you would never have the time and patience to animate believably. I just really liked the look of it. I talked to Habib Zargarpour, my friend that was doing all that [computer animation software] Maya beta testing, and I said I want to try setting something up like this in 3D where we make up a frame and we suspend the pods from springs that attach to the frame. Basically, what we’re going to animate is, we’re going to animate the frame, we’re going to jostle it around, and when we animate the pods we’re basically just animating this frame. The pods are just going to hang from that, and when we move the frame, they’ll kind of bounce around and we’ll get all this really nice secondary motion. So that’s how the animation system worked, we weren’t actually animating the pods directly. We’re animating this frame that was holding them up. That was, I think, the first time that we’d done vehicle animation that was all being driven by rigid bodies and dynamic simulation system. Jean Bolte: I remember the first time I saw the podrace come together on the screen, and I was like, “This is it. This is amazing and it’s a beautiful collaboration.” The model makers and the computer graphics department come before me in the [process]. It’s first artwork, then the model makers get busy, the CG model department gets busy modeling, then it’s passed off to paint. Often it goes back to model and back to paint and back to model. John Knoll: Yeah, it’s a mixture. Doug and the group had designed this racecourse that had all these very distinctly different-looking regions. It was all pretty deliberate because George wanted you — if you saw two racers in one particular terrain — to immediately understand where you were in the racetrack. “Oh, that’s the area right past the stadium,” or “There’s the arches,” or “That’s the area where they get into this narrow canyon.” So if you kind of understood what that racetrack is like, then you cut to this character and you kind of know, “Oh, he’s like 10 seconds behind Anakin because he’s still in the crater field,” and that kind of thing. We had all these different terrains we had to create, and some of them were more closed in than others. A couple of them, like Beggar’s Canyon, and there was another sort of cave, this stalactite cave, I figured were closed in enough that we could do in miniature.

(The stunning podrace arena miniature.)

(Thousands of painted Q-tips stood in for audience members in the podrace arena miniature.) The podrace stadium was another one where I really felt like we’d get a lot of benefit out of building a miniature of that. Partly I was kinda looking back at how people had done things in the past, and the Ben-Hur stadium from the chariot race, that always really impressed me. Those were done in miniature and they just looked amazing. We’ll build a miniature of that arena, and we’ll shoot all the elements outdoors, and we’ll get that really nice, realistic daytime look. And then there were other terrains where it was just wide open and we were going at 600 miles an hour, and it seemed like the only way to do it was this CG projection technique. It was a whole mixture of whatever technique would work. Ben Burtt: I followed through with the podrace from day one to however we ended it. [Laughs] Even in the earliest stages of temporary assemblies of the race I showed George, I always was starting to put sound in. I, of course, had a library to start with of aircraft, and some automobile, cars, and things that had high-speed racing-type sounds that I could manipulate. I would sketch those in a temporary way. As we went along and the podrace developed, I would go out and record new vehicles, as would [sound designer] Matt Wood and a few others. We’d send them out to races to get drag strips, cars, we did some — everything from antique biplanes with wires humming on them to running an electric toothbrush up and down a harp string. It wasn’t just restricted to aircraft or anything. We did a lot of cars, a lot of aircraft of different types, and then manipulated other sound effects. George Lucas: The podrace was the direct result of my lifelong fascination with racing. I thought it would be fun to build really intense race vehicles that were as much sort of chariots as they were anything else, like two horses and a chariot. I took that idea, and plot-wise, it was necessary to get them off the planet. Obviously, you could come up with a million different ways, but I have a tendency to always go toward the racetrack. It was very dynamic. And it’s fun. I love it. The digital revolution of which The Phantom Menace was part did not stop with effects; it played a big part in the editing of the film and the entire delivery method. Still, the movie was ultimately made utilizing techniques both new and traditional. George Lucas: I’m not sure where my embrace of technology comes from. All art is technology. Film, or the movies, were the highest point of technology in the art world. You just had to learn a lot, and there’s a lot of technical things to deal with. So that wasn’t the issue as much as it was the fact that I didn’t mind change. And I didn’t mind change because I actually physically worked in it. I worked as an editor, I worked as a cameraman, and I know how difficult it was just working in the medium where you have little splices of film, you can’t find them, when you go to look for something you have to go through reels and reels of film. It takes a long time and it’s very frustrating on lots of levels. Just the whole idea that back in the Kodak days, you’d shoot the film, and then you have to send it in to the drugstore to get it processed, and then bring it back to see what you have, is slow and frustrating. And the whole thing was built on that, whereas if you do it electronically, digitally, you can see what you’re doing as you’re doing it. So you know exactly what you’re doing. Ben Burtt: Phantom Menace was shot on film. It was the last of the ones shot on film, but it gets transferred to a digital form, then we’re cutting on Avid editing machines. Once you’ve got the image in the digital realm, rather than a physical piece of film, of course then it opens up the door to the amenities of working digitally. You can cut and paste images, and you can duplicate them, and you can flip flop and enlarge them and shrink them, doing all kinds of stuff with a lot of fluidity that you would never have if you were working on a physical film. George loved that world of manipulation after the fact. You learned working for George that no shot as the camera saw it was final. [Laughs] It could be thought of as just an element for further development.

(Jean Bolte paints a Sebulba maquette.) Jean Bolte: When Jurassic came out, the company offered to train those of us who were interested in making the switch — they referred to it as “making a switch to computer graphics.” I had no intention whatsoever of making a switch [from the model shop]. What I always wanted to do was to train on this, in the new technology, learn as much as I could about it, but also keep the door open in the model shop. I had to fight kind of hard to make that work. But I think I was fairly successful because during Episode I, I was still able to go back to the model shop and paint maquettes, sort of keep both doors open. I loved that. John Knoll: To be perfectly frank, I was getting a lot of pressure from George and Rick to do less with miniatures and more with digital techniques. And what George told me, this was, I think, during Episode II or III, he was pushing back on me wanting to do so much with miniatures. He said, “Listen, the future is in computer graphics with these digital techniques, and you’re using miniatures as a crutch. You’re going to have to get better at doing this computer graphics work and expand the palette of things you’re going to be able to do that way. And the way you’re going to get good at it is doing it, so I’m going to kick the crutch out from under you and it’s for your own good. Don’t build so many miniatures. Do this stuff more with digital techniques because you need to be doing that.” Even though my preference would have been to keep doing what I was doing on Episode I. I look back on a lot of the miniature work we did on Episode I and I think it still looks amazing. Like Theed city, I think a lot of those shots are completely convincing. You’d never know. And I think the podrace stadium looks pretty good, and the podrace hangar looks really good. And there’s a lot of extensions that I don’t think people even know are extensions that are in the Nemoidian ship, of the corridors and the bridge and all of that. You’d never know.

#behind the scenes #george lucas #ben burtt #doug chiang #rob coleman #john knoll #jean bolte #ahmed best #long post under read more

385 notes · View notes

anotherwellkeptsecret · 5 years

Text

Alrighty. Time to type up my surgery and recovery experience.

When I got my pacemaker two years ago, I spent a year (almost exactly) drawing a comic called Change of Pace, which helped me kinda process what happened to me. You can read the comic here if you’re interested. It’s largely all true, aside from the love story part. Tsk.

I don’t think I’m going to be drawing out this experience. It was completely different. I’ve been expecting a surgery of this nature since I was nineteen, when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. So, in a way, this stint in the hospital was harder, more personal. The pacemaker was an emergency. The colon resection was some time coming. Not as much trauma, really. Not as much confusion about what was happening and why. But I still feel like telling the story, purging it from my mind.

I was scheduled for surgery on Monday, the 18th of November. I took off work that Friday so I could have my pre-op bloodwork done and I also took off Sunday so I could start the colon prep. If you don’t know what a colon prep is, God bless you. You basically drink a crap ton (lol) of laxative and spend all night pooping until you poop clear. The easiest version is the Miralax version. If you have to have a colonoscopy, ask for the Miralax. I promise, you don’t want the Go-Lightly.

The day before prep, my friend took me climbing in Memphis to keep my mind off of things. We also went to IKEA. It was helpfully distracting. I had Swedish meatballs.

I was meant to “technically” start the prep at midnight Saturday by not eating anything until surgery on Monday. Beginning to drink the Miralax sometime around noon on Sunday. I didn’t get that far.

I got righteously sick Saturday night. My back was killing me and I was very nauseous and dizzy. I knew what was going on even before I started throwing up. I had a bowel obstruction. The second one in my life. I’d had one once before in March and jeeze. It hurt like a son of a bitch. I’m not sure if every bowel obstruction feels the same way, but mine certainly did. If you find yourself having these symptoms, please go to the ER. Bowel obstructions are no joke. You can go septic, which is incredibly dangerous.

Nausea, feeling like you’re going to pass out, vomiting bile, severely upset stomach, cold sweats, and my back was aching something awful. I assume it was because my stomach was cramping so badly, my back muscles were spasming.

I live with my mother. Have done since I’ve been getting sick so regularly. I woke her up and she took me to the hospital.

The first time I had a bowel obstruction, I thought something was wrong with my heart. (The cold sweats, the nausea.) They rushed me to the back immediately. This time, I knew it was an obstruction, not my heart, and I said as much. They don’t tend to be in as much of a hurry when you don’t mention your heart. Didn’t realize that. I’m also not entirely sure they were convinced I did have a bowel obstruction. I’m sure plenty of people walk into an ER saying random stuff for random reasons, but yeah. I was very slowly processed. I remember them taking my blood pressure and because it wasn’t high at all, I imagine they thought I was full of shit. Figuratively, not literally. Because I was, literally. Whatever.

My blood pressure normally runs very low. I can also take a lot of pain, because I’m on a first name basis with pain. They didn’t take my pain seriously because my blood pressure wasn’t high, I guess. Not my fault I’m a badass.

I sat in the waiting room until I started vomiting bile again. I also pooped all over myself in the processes. Which I didn’t think you could do if you were obstructed, but you live and you learn!

That’s when they got in a hurry. I was making a huge mess.

They got me a paper gown and I cleaned myself up as best as I could before the CAT scan, which proved I was, in fact, obstructed.

So there I was, in the ER, very very early on the Sunday morning before my surgery Monday. I was admitted and my doctor contacted. Since the surgery was so close at hand, they agreed it was best to wait until the scheduled time to do the surgery. I’d stopped vomiting so there was no need for an NG tube this time. Those things suck.

Got admitted. Got a room. Tried to sleep. My surgeon came in and we talked. Got everything situated. At one point my mother told me there was a girl down the hall who’d just had a colon resection if I wanted to talk to her. She was sitting int he hallway with her sisters, eating her dinner. Poor thing had been in the hospital for almost a month.

I spoke with her a bit. I’m not entirely sure what happened. Whether it was nerves or if I was hurting, but I almost passed out in the hallway. I hadn’t experienced anything of that nature since I had my pacemaker put in. The whole point of the pacemaker was to prevent me from passing out altogether. But I didn’t pass out so...I suppose that means it’s working?

I also pooped on myself that night while I slept. First time that’d ever happened. It was then I knew that I’d literally gone as long as I could before I needed surgery. I couldn’t wait any more. I’d been so stressed out over in the idea that I maybe didn’t need the surgery. That I was being pitiful and my case wasn’t that bad. I could tough it out if I really wanted. I realized what a dumbass I was for thinking those thoughts, but hindsight is 20/20.

Monday dawned and surgery rolled around. Took forever. I was basically watching the clock tick the minutes by until transport fetched me. I was wheeled down to pre-op where they gave me a hair net. I don’t remember getting a hair net for the pacemaker surgery.

I signed some paperwork and a lady told me she was going to get me ready. She said she was going to give me a nerve block in my stomach. I was like, “Cool, right on.” Until I saw the needle.

Holy fuck. That needle.

“You’re going to give me that when I’m asleep, right?”

“I’m going to give you some ‘I don’t care’ juice.”

“Oh, thank God. I probably won’t remember this then.”

“Probably not.”

In went the ‘I don’t care’ juice. I got really dizzy.

They swabbed my belly with iodine.

They prepped the needle.

I was still very much awake.

I said, “Guys...” Because at this point there were several people standing over me. Like five. “...I’m still cognizant.”

Yeah, I used the word cognizant. That’s how fucking cognizant I was.

Not sure if they heard me. Or if they replied. I was really dizzy.

In went the needle.

And ow. OW.

In went the needle again. One stick on each side of my belly.

The ‘I don’t care’ juice must have been working in some way because while I remember the pain, I don’t remember the panic. I certainly would have panicked if I didn’t have that juice pumping through me. So that was a thing.

I fell asleep soon thereafter. Couldn’t have been like...a minute earlier? Really?

I remember waking up in recovery with the pacemaker. I remember the pressure, the nurse asking me questions. I remember being wheeled back to my room. I don’t remember jack shit about recovery after the colon resection. I don’t remember being wheeled back to my room. I apparently asked for my mom, but I don’t remember doing that either.

I do remember, however, turning over on my side. Because ouch. But I did it anyway and kept doing it because I’m a determined asshole. Monday night was very hazy. I was high as fuck, probably.

Tuesday: Not a good day. I was in a lot of pain. They gave me hydros, but the hydros weren’t touching it. Felt like I was taking Tylenol. And I have a very very VERY low tolerance for pain meds. They wouldn’t give me any morphine because my blood pressure was too low. (Again, badass?? Maybe?? IDK man my blood pressure just runs really low.) Which makes sense, because that’s dangerous, but I was in agony. I begged for morphine. I pleaded with the nurse to give me morphine. She would not.

My mother got angry. I’m not one to complain. And my threshold for pain is admittedly pretty stout. I was hurting and no one was doing anything to help. My mother got ANGRY.

I think they must’ve finally given me some morphine, but I don’t remember. Morphine also didn’t help. Didn’t even make a dent in the pain I was feeling. They kept giving me hydros every couple of hours to no avail. I remember I asked for a heating pad for my back. Barely. The nurse did give me one, but said I could only have it for an hour? Very fuzzy.

The tech forgot to...do something with my catheter because my urine got everywhere. The nurse that found me like that called the floor manager. I hated to, but I did report that my pain wasn’t kept in check. I was hurting so badly I actually reported one of the nurses. The one that wouldn’t give me morphine. I felt horrible about it, but I was also nearly in tears I hurt so bad.

Hell, the pain was so intense at one point my mother called my family. Like, they thought something was wrong. Very very wrong. The doctor called for some kind of scan while I was in bed. They put a board behind my back. I was writhing, I remember. My family gathered in the hospital to see me in case I had to go back to surgery. In case I wasn’t going to do well.

It was scary.

The next set of nurses figured out the problem when the scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary. My back was spasming. Horribly. When I sat up and they felt of me, they were shocked to find my back riddled with knots. It felt like knuckles underneath my skin. The new nurses got me some hella icy hot with pain killer and rubbed me down.

It helped tremendously. My back stopped freaking out, which gave my abdominal muscles time to rest.

At last, I wasn’t hurting. At last, I slept.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent trying to keep my back under control. At one point I vomited all over my bed due to acid reflux. I paged the nurse to ask for some acid reflux medicine and puked all over the place while I was on the call with her lol.

I never once had any issue with my incision. My entire trouble, the whole time, was from my back. And nausea. And lemme tell ya. Vomiting with a six inch incision on your abdomen? OW.

Getting up and walking? Easy enough. Getting up and going to the bathroom? No problem. Spongebath? Piece of cake. But God my back.

I managed to poop for the doctors. Fantastic.

And finally, finally, I got to have food.

I went from about 5:00PM Saturday to 12:00PM Friday without having anything to eat or drink. I had an IV, and I could eat ice chips if I desperately needed to wet my mouth, but yeah. I hardly had any ice chips. Weird to imagine you can go that long without food and be alright.

I proved I could eat GI soft food on Saturday and they let me go home.

Got my staples removed the following Tuesday. Had some steri strips applied. Just waiting for them to fall off on their own.

And here I am. Just lounging, waiting to get my strength back. It’s much easier to draw after this surgery than the pacemaker one. Thank God. I’m slow moving and my stomach hurts a bit when my contents shift, but other than that I’m doing swimmingly. I can’t lift anything over ten pounds until the new year. Not sure when I’ll be able to drive, either. I’ll find out soon.

This surgery was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Mentally and physically. Mentally because I’ve been struggling with Crohn’s since I was a teenager. I’m 32 now. Half my life I’ve been at war with my own body, drowning in the pain it leashes on itself. It’s been a long road. I hope this spells the end of it. Or at least, the rest of the journey is all downhill.

I’ve lost a lot of weight. I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’ll gain it back. Just takes time.

#personal #medical #tw pain #tw medical #recovery #crohn's disease #colon resection

198 notes · View notes

squid--inc--writes · 4 years

Text

i did a thing, green team mercenaries

@schwarzekatzen @wettthepottterheadss4120

Okay, so, I'll admit, I have done much serious shit with digital art in a while. This almost counts as serious because it took me a week. However, this is based on this image

Pizza gal is Chastille, goth is Yauhmass, raven is Huuli, wedding gal is Torslo.

And this is kind of an unofficial "how they met" thing. Bare in mind that this is fantasy, but does have the occasional element of trains, and by proxy cars, just generally old tech enhanced by magic.

Huuli and Yauhmass already knew eachother because Yauhmass has all of Huulis colony in her hair. How? Because, technically speaking, Yauhmass is a massive fucking creature. She can easily hop a mountain, even with her limited mobility. She has an enchanted necklace, which allows her to shrink and look more human based on how well it's screwed on. This also shrinks everything on her, including living things, so she just has tiny beings in her hair, making houses (which are the little "beads") people usually think "oh, your hair must be gross" since she can't wash it normally, but it's very clean because the Tarpuan (Huulis species) clean regularly with the threat of getting straight up dunked in water. Tarpuan aren't know for wanting to be clean, so, y'know, better to keep the host clean if you don't want a forced bath. They made money through either Huuli stealing, or Yauhmass beating people in fights, because, while she looks slow, and really, is slow due to how her body is designed to be much larger, she cannot be knocked down by ordinary means, and she still has the same amount of strength as when she is full sized. Just not as balanced.

Torlso is a scholar, and after being banished from her stronghold by her father (admittedly, not the leader, but he WAS well respected before his daughter, who was supposed to marry the leader, is gone) for ignoring her combat lessons, and some of her duties, she went and got educated at a variety of institutes of learning (not all are colleges, but I'm working stuff out). She came back, to show him all she learned, but she isn't allowed back in. I have a point about that later in the series.

Chastille is already a mercenary. Her mother was a Courier (magical services involved, such as flying horses) and her father was a mage, both human. However, due to her parents, she was cursed by multiple gods, ironically giving her a very powerful ability that could kill the gods themselves. Her body, starting at her finger tips, turn a very dark green when she activates it, either intentionally or unintentionally, which is why she wears gloves when she isn't actively using it, so that there is warning. She can also control the dust itself, but unfortunately can't reverse the effect. Her parents were nomadic, so, while she mostly lived with her father, because he was closer to being stationary, she wound up living on her own, and working as a mercenary. Both her natural and learned powers led to her being well sought after. She is an extremely happy individual.

When they met, technically in a tavern near a train station, Chastille had seen Torslo crying and asked what was wrong, and Torslo tells her. So Chastille thinks for a minute, and goes "ooooo why don't you travel with me. Maybe you could earn the riches to allow you back in. Or find a new friend. Either or." And Torslo, who quite likes how sweet she is, agrees, because, frankly, even if this is a trick, death is better than what she believes awaits her.

Huuli hears the riches part, and Yauhmass walks over and asks "did I hear something about riches?" Kind of expecting this to be a hiring experience, what with a tiny chick that looks incredibly weak, even by human standards, asking a big orc lady for help.

So, Chastille says "ooh, what that be the implication that you'd like us all to start a mercenary company together" a genuine career path, acknowledged by guards and the like. A company would actually give them more lee way with murder, theft, assault, and they get a hefty discount with most Inn keepers. Yauhmass looks at her and goes "a.... Mercenary company? Thought you were hiring"

To which Chastille says "oh, no, I've been a mercenary for over a decade now, at least. Started when I was stilll a child" (16)

Yauhmass, skeptical, agrees, only in humor. Either they have steady, easy cash (varies from place to place, as there can be more than one type in a province and sometimes they don't even accept each others currency) or she's entertained for a week.

There's a whole April about them applying, but, thanks in part to Torslo having very little experience in active fighting (you have to do a test, varying where you are, because the one they apply to is affiliated with a mercenary guild of sorts, and they don't want to ruin their rep with candidates who die in under a week), and Yauhmass and Huuli being actively wanted dead by many rulers/law enforcement, they can't actually apply for it. Ensues them being mercenaries illegally. Da da da

#gtm #green team mercenaries #orc #fantasy #made up races #mercenaries #original story #fandom #magic #magical #powers #train #original fiction #origin story #art #digital art #artist

7 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Fluffy Kittens ~ Jumin Han x Katrina, Elizabeth the 3rd x Delilah

(( This is a birthday gift for my bestie who got me into JoJo and Obey Me, and even fangirled with me over Mystic Messenger, and since Jumin was her fave, more or less because of how cute Elizabeth the 3rd was, while I was all over Saeyoung and Zen...This goes without saying...

Buuuuut, since I wanted to make this extra cute and fluffy, and also make it more intriguing, while also adding Delilah playing and cuddling with Elly...This is gonna be pretty personal for the both of us.

Happy Birthday, Deli, even though you hate it, I’m wishing you all the best, and I’m super happy that we’ve been friends for...5 years? Or so? And even though we don’t talk regularly, I’m always happy to spend time with you IRL and sing silly things, watch Osomatsu-san, do JoJo poses and voice act again <3

As well as that, I’m sure you’ll ace the Graduation exams, because you’re a smart bby, even though you undervalue yourself so much, and you’ll DEFINITELY get yourself into Vet Uni and we will see each other more often <3

Also, thank goodness, you literally look like the MC from MysMes, this makes it so much easier since I didn’t get the time to draw the You x Levi thingy I’ve had in mind for half a year ^^” ))

---

Katrina and Delilah, two Veterinary Medicine students, were walking towards the park, as they found it very relaxing to study together, outside, on a nice bench, while also looking at the dogs playing around.

However, today was much different, for they found a phone on the ground, and the chestnut haired girl picked it up, examining it, then turned to the older girl with a confused expression.

“What should we do about it?” she asked, handing her the phone. “This looks rather new, almost brand new. Let’s see what contacts it has, maybe we can call someone and tell them about the missed phone. If not...Let’s just leave it here or something, it’s not really my problem.” she shrugged, rushing to sit on the nearest bench, as she unlocked the phone. “It has no password?!” Delilah sat down next to her, hugging her arm and leaning on her side as she peered into the phone’s screen. “Well, I don’t have either, but I’m not a careless airhead...This looks brand new, it has no contacts...” the red haired girl muttered in confusions, frowning slightly. “Look, there’s this app installed, RFA. Maybe it’s like a Messenger or something?” she proposed, as her friend nodded. “Okay, let’s see...Ah, look, there are some people here. Jumin Han, Zen, Jaehee Kang, Yoosung and 707. I guess it’s worth a shot.” Katrina said, opening the chatroom option, only for the the screen to start looking glitchy, and a man called Unknown to message them instead. “What’s going on...?” Deli asked with uncertainty, getting creeped out. “I say we throw this away, this is getting sketchy as hell.” Katrina frowned, leaning back on the bench, as the third party was giving them an address to give the phone to. “We shouldn’t. Who knows what could happen.” the red head shook her head. “But the person’s phone...This address is a pretty nice residential area, lots of young people live here. I even have University colleagues living there. What could go wrong?” Delilah convinced her friend, as she could only sigh, nod, and start walking in that direction. “If we live through this mess, I’m getting drunk.” Katrina chuckled, as she input the code and got inside the apartment.

The place was a little dusty, but it seemed pretty cozy, despite being a bit small. Even so, as soon as they stepped in, the glitchy background disappeared, and a long chat conversation that revealed all the chat members mentioned above...Until they realised we were there too.

Everyone was suspicious of us, and rightfully so, I’d say, but we were just as confused as they were.

Katrina: Look, so, uh...We don’t know who this ‘Rika’ person is, and frankly, we don’t care either. We found this phone on the ground and this RFA app was the only one installed. We wanted to call someone so we could return the device to the rightful owner, and my friend didn’t want to go to the police unless necessary. Well, I would’ve left it on the ground...But she’s an angel, anyway. To put it lightly, we’re as confused, if not, more confused than you are. Anyhow, we got messages to return this phone to this address, so there is that.

Somehow, Yoosung and Zen started talking besides the point, while Jumin tried to get them back on track and 707 was trying to hack and find out our identity.

Katrina: If it helps, we can send a selfie to show you that we are real people or something. On the other hand, if I guessed correctly, the pictures next to your names are your actual selfies.

Katrina: Ah, my friend wants to speak as well. I will write in Italics, while she’ll write in bold, to make things easier to differentiate.

Zen: Are you a woman?!

Yoosung: OMG! I guess only the picture will tell!

707: Zen. Be more serious, plz?

707: And wait a sec on the woman thing.

707: Looking it up.

Katrina: Wait no more. Lo’ and behold, the beauty and grace of a Devil and an Angel.

Urging Delilah to get closer, Katrina extended her arm out to take a selfie. She smirked mischievously, as her friend smiled softly, offering a peace sign.

Katrina: Satisfied your curiosities?

Then, they started introducing each other one by one, more or less forced by the other, and it was clear that this party was rather...Unique.

When Yoosung introduced himself, Delilah gasped and took the phone from her friend’s hand.

Katrina: Omg, Yoosung, I know you! You are in the same University as me! You are 2 years younger than me, but I saw you around! My name is Delilah, but I understand if you haven’t seen me, I’m not the most flashy around. Katrina also finished Vet Uni just last year, and she has been working at this super high tech clinic for a few years now!

Katrina: Woaw, Deli, fate sure fools around in mysterious ways. Oh well, Yoosung is still young, but you must be very hard-working and diligent if you got yourself in such a difficult University. I wish you luck for the years to come.

Yoosung: O M G ! ! ! That’s SO cool! Maybe we can hang around some time! Or eat together at the cafeteria, if our schedules have some common breaks!

Zen: LOLOL Yoosung, you lucky guy.

707: I can confirm, they’re real cuties!

Katrina: Haha, thanks.

Seeing that this conversation eased the others a bit, Seven posted a picture of Jumin with his cat, and...

Katrina: OHMYGOD THAT CAT IS GORGEOUS OMG!!!!!

Jumin Han: Finally, someone who can appreciate beauty around this place.

Katrina: You should see Delilah, she’s gushing and squealing over how adorable Elizabeth is.

Katrina: Well, I have to agree anyway, she is very pretty.

Katrina: CAN I PLEASE PLAY WITH HER ONE DAY?!

Jumin Han: I wouldn’t let a stranger get anywhere close to my precious Elizabeth the 3rd.

Katrina: :C Okay...

Jumin Han: If you prove yourself to be a person of trust, and respect Elizabeth, unlike these guys here, then I may consider it.

Katrina: !!! Thanks, Jumin, you’re the best!

Katrina: Graciously spoken.

Katrina: Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell us what to do from now on, since we sincerely have no idea what to do. We would like to go back to the park and continue studying, but, uh...You don’t sound like bad people, so we wouldn’t want to inconvenience you either. We can’t remain to this place for too long, obviously.

As soon as Katrina wrote that, they started talking about this ‘V’ person, or the person in control of this RFA organisation, and while at it, Seven hacked into their social medias and said they were cute, while the others seemed shocked they were girls.

Then, V convinced the girls to help them host this charity party, and thinking it wouldn’t be too bad, at least for their CV, they agreed. What was rather sketchy for them was the address reveal...So they decided to stray away from that part, and not talk about it again.

Jumin Han: So, Katrina, Delilah, I will follow V’s decision. Will you join RFA?

Katrina: Sure. We don’t have anything to lose. We just have to respond and convince some guests to attend, and one the day of the party, be free the whole time and attend. You can count on us.

Katrina: It sounds like it would be fun!

It was all nice and dandy, unless they started talking about relationships, which made the red haired girl groan, roll her eyes and throw the phone on the desk, while slumping in the chair and leaning way back.

Katrina: I don’t get why you’re so upset over relationships. It’s no big deal, after all. It’s much better to cuddle cats anyway ^^

Katrina: I second that. Relationships are a drag, and humans are even worse. And selfish. I’m married to my work. Dating life ain’t for me, it seems. *shrug*

Zen: That...Sounds so sad ;;;

Jumin Han: I believe that’s rather sensible.

Zen: Shut up, you’re always fawned over by women!

Jumin Han: Women who only want me for my money.

Katrina: LOLOL, you’re sugar daddy material or what?

Zen: Lolololol Katrina you’re funny.

Yoosung: Jumin is the CEO of one of the wealthiest companies in Korea.

Katrina: Oh, great. Good for you.

707: Lololol this is funny. It’s like we’re talking to a female version of Jumin lololol.

Zen: Oh, God, no.

Katrina: I...Don’t know how I should react. Should I take it as a compliment?

Jumin Han: Yes.

Katrina: Very well then.

Katrina: Oh my God, imagine how happy Elizabeth is! Jumin has so much money to pamper and spoil her! What a happy baby!

707: Lololol yes, Elly is defo a happy cat!

Karina: I wish I could pamper Tsuki like you pamper Elizabeth too, Jumin ;;

Katrina: ...Same with I and Fifi, to be fair.

707: OMG YOU HAVE CATS TOO?!

Katrina: Yes, I do! Her name is Tsuki, she’s a British Shorthair, and she’s soooo cuteeee!!

Katrina:

Katrina: I agree. She’s adorable. And her meows are so high pitched and cute...

Katrina: Omg, Katrina made such a cute cat smile just now-

Katrina: DELILAH!!! >:C

Katrina: Hahaha so cute ^^

Katrina: Ahem. Well, as for my Fifi, she’s a dog. Bichon Havanese. Spoiled little baby. But, uh...I don’t think it matters much, seeing that you seem more interested in cats, which I can understand. Elizabeth and Tsuki are gorgeous.

Zen: I want to see something other than cats, please.

Katrina: Consider it done.

Katrina:

Katrina: She’s more photogenic than I’ll ever be lolol.

Katrina: Mood.

707: Omg I wanna play with both of them, at the same time!!

Jumin Han: Great, new animals for the abuser.

Zen: Fifi is so cute! Just like her owner~. *wink sticker*

Katrina: Haha, thanks, Zen. Likewise.

Yoosung: Zen is allergic to cats, and Jumin keeps talking about Elizabeth, so...It’s a mess.

Katrina: Lolol poor Zen. Better not get close to the clinic I work at, then.

Katrina: Awww, that’s so sad, Zen! Look!

Katrina:

Katrina: LOLOL DELILAH THAT’S EVIL HAHA-

Katrina : Hihi ^^ Everyone loves kitty toe beans!

Zen: I can already feel a sneeze-spree happening again.

Katrina: C’est la vie. Not everyone can enjoy the beauty of the world, unfortunately.

Jumin Han:

Katrina: LOLOLOL Jumin, you’re so savage!

Jumin Han: Glad I could amuse you, Katrina.

Zen: Why are you all so evil...

Katrina: Yo, I’ve a question.

Katrina: I know we don’t really know each other, but y’all seem like really nice people, so uhh...

Katrina: Even though you don’t trust us, I would like to go out to a pub with all of you.

Katrina: Maybe after the party, so you won’t be suspicious of us, or something.

Katrina: With so many unique personalities, it’s bound to be quite a successful hangout.

Katrina: That, and we don’t really have too many friends to hang out with lolol.

Katrina: ...That too. *shrug*

Yoosung: That’d be so cool! I’m in!

Zen: Omg, Katrina, so cute! I agree, it should be fun.

707: An opportunity to leave the house! Yes!

Jumin Han: Assistant Kang, make sure you keep that in our schedule.

Jaehee Kang: Very well...I agree it would be interesting, but...

Jaehee Kang: Can we really trust them so easily?

Jumin Han: Only time will tell.

Katrina: Well, it was nice talking/getting to know you all, but we have to go now. I’ve work tomorrow and Delilah has upcoming exams. Tschüss.

Katrina: Talk to you later!

---

A few days after the whole chaos with the new phone, during one chill evening when the girls were watching a movie together, they saw Seven, Yoosung and Jumin chatting, so they decided to see what the talk was all about.

Jumin Han: Elizabeth the 3rd hasn’t been eating anything since she came back from Assistan Kang’s place.

Jumin Han: I have to call her.

Yoosung: Why don’t you call her rather than going online?

707: Since he can take care of things without hearing her voice?

Katrina: Jumin, if I may, perhaps Jaehee fed her too much. If you want, however, I have a few years of experience working in the clinic, I could check on her briefly, if you film her for me, or something.

Katrina: Although I would understand your skepticism if you don’t agree. It may be akin to home privacy invasion, since bits of the home may get captured in the video.

Jumin Han: You are very thorough in thinking of different possibilities.

707: Omg I’m jealous, I want a private video chat session with Elly too!

Jumin Han: Her name is Elizabeth the 3rd.

Jumin Han: Very well, Katrina, I will trust V’s judgement that you are safe.

Katrina: Thank you for trusting me enough to allow such a thing.

Katrina: And omg, your chat bubble is a cat, that’s so cute! Can Seven do that for us too?!

707: I’ll see what I can do!

Katrina: Sweet, thanks. Jumin, call me when you’re free.

Jumin Han: Very well.

It wasn’t long after the chat that Katrina received a call from Jumin, and they both activated the video option, and from one end, a huge, beautiful, modern bedroom, and on huge bed, Jumin was holding Elizabeth in his lap.

On the other end of the video, a cozy little bedroom was shown, as Delilah was holding the phone, while Katrina was nowhere to be seen, which confused the man.

“Where is Katrina?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. “She went to get the laptop and cable, so we would see the video better. I hope you don’t mind that I’m here, but Katrina thought it would be educational to see her ask about the anamnesis and checking up parts, as I’m going to start volunteering at the clinic at the end of this University year too.” Delilah explained, a smile on her face as she saw the fluffy cat. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Educating yourself is never bad.” Jumin nodded, as Katrina came in the picture and propped the phone on the laptop, so Jumin would see them, while they were looking at the laptop screen.

“Can you see us well, Jumin? We can see you perfectly.” Katrina asked, almost too professionally, as she fumbled with the laptop video settings. “Yes, it’s well enough.” he nodded simply. “Okay, all good. I will begin the anamnesis, which is asking the pet owner what they saw unusual, if they saw anything. That includes eating habits, dejections, unusual fur shedding, odd behaviours, unusual bad breath, odd eye movements, whining, crying, tail movements, if they seem exhausted or depressed, if their abdomen is flexed and so on.” Katrina explained, leaning closer to the screen to look at the cat. “Nothing unusual, except she hasn’t eaten since she came home from Assistant Kang. I even counted the hairs she shed, and it’s not unusual” Jumin explained, which made the red haired girl widen her eyes. “Damn, you’re the most diligent and attentive pet owner I’ve ever met in my life, including myself. You’re a wonder to work with. Well, the fur seems luscious, the claws look fine, so the keratin levels are good, her eyes are wide and nice, she seems to be following the toy perfectly, she has great reflexes, seems pretty playful, her nose is wet, her ears are up, her abdomen isn’t flexed...That only means one thing. Deli, can you guess?” Katrina looked at her friend with a warm smile. “She...Ate too much? That’s the only thing that I can think of.” she asked shyly, which earned a bright grin from her friend. “That’s exactly it! Jumin, as far as I understood from you, you’re treating Elizabeth with extremely strict measures, which means strict food portions, and only food that specialists deem is the best for her. Jaehee doesn’t have all that, so she gives her, for example, 2 cans of food, instead of 1 and a half, which means her stomach is fuller than usual, so her satiety levels are above the usual levels. Basically, she’s so full she can’t eat until everything is properly digested and she’s had her sport done.” Katrina explained everything thoroughly, as if it was one of Hercule Poirot’s detective novels. “Ohhh, that makes sense! That was pretty exciting!” Delilah clapped her hands excitedly. “I see, so it is as I suspected. Thank you for confirming my theory. Sorry for taking your time with this.” Jumin said, making the girl raise her eyebrows in surprise. “I always have time for friends.” Katrina blurted without realising. “Friends...Huh? I thought people called their peers ‘Friends’ when they realised they can fully trust them.” Jumin asked, almost as if he was interrogating. “...I, uh...I see everyone from the RFA as friends. That’s just that, don’t think too much about it.” Katrina dismissed it quickly. “Very well, I won’t. The party is in 4 days, are you ready for it?” he asked, making both of them widen their eyes in shock. “...I think we are. Just...We need to look for an outfit.” Delilah scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “We’ve been so busy with work and exams, and the party was announced so suddenly...Well, we were kinda put on the spot. We’ll go look around tomorrow. Hope we find something nice and cheap enough to afford.” Katrina shrugged, looking away from the phone, as if there was something much more interesting she was seeing. “It’s good to be prepared in advance, but I can see why you’d have difficulty with things like this, considering your positions.” he nodded, understandingly. “We appreciate that. Well...Even if we haven’t been around for long, we truly hope we can help make this party great. We are aware that it won’t be as successful or grandiose as the ones with Rika were, but...We will try our best to get close to that.” Katrina spoke again. “Were you trained in diplomatic speech? Because I can sense that. Not many people can do that.” Jumin asked again, as Elizabeth jumped off from his lap, to roll around on the bed. “Awwww, she’s so cute!” Delilah gushed over the adorable creature. “I can’t say I was trained, I just picked it up. Add that to the fact that I have to be polite with everyone, and there you have it. Is this what you call a professional defect?” Kat snorted in mock amusement. “Perhaps it is. Some tend to call me snobby for always being formal.” Jumin said as a matter of fact. “What a coincidence...People hate me for being cold and formal too. Que drôle.” she smirked, speaking in a softer, almost self-deprecating tone. “That’s how people can be. They must always hate on something. I suppose that’s why Zen hates me.” Jumin spoke in a low voice. “Sorry, Jumin, but not everyone can be a patrician like you. Most of us are plebeians working our way up.” Katrina laughed softly at her stupid joke. “Every vassal can become a Lord.” Jumin pointed out, making the red head snap her head to him, with a challenging smirk. “Said the monarch.” she shot back with ease. “I wouldn’t say I’m a Monarch, that would be the president. I would, however, be a Lord, I believe.” Jumin retorted just as well. “And I would be nothing more than an unfree slave, working her way to buy her freedom.” she spoke with a smug expression. “And what would that imply?” he asked, almost with piqued curiosity. “Building our own clinic. It’s been our dream for a long time. To be in the same University, to work together, to own a clinic together and just...Live our life and be happy. If we achieve that, we will be free.” she explained, a much softer expression on her face. “I see. It’s always refreshing hearing other people speak about their ambitions and dreams of the future. Much better than the usual lies business people throw at you. Thank you for today Katrina, Delilah, I must go for now. Have a nice evening.” Jumin thanked them with a small smile, as he hung up. “...Thanks for today too, Jumin. Take care.” Katrina murmured, despite the call already having ended. “He likes you. At least, more than some others. And you’re kinda alike in some ways, I mean...I think he and you are constantly facepalming whenever you’re talking to idiots, and now both of you finally managed to run into a person with the same kind of maturity and intelligence as the other.” Delilah explained, making her friend become slightly flustered and confused. “You think so? Well, I wouldn’t mind. Jumin seems smart and level-headed enough...But I don’t know. I don’t think...Uh...We’ll see at the party, I guess. It should be fun. If anything happens, you get custody of Elly the 3rd.” Kat chuckled nervously at her friend’s teasing, before winking at her. “Oh, yes!” she cheered in glee.

---

Two days later, however, the girls couldn’t go dress-shopping, as an emergency that nobody could ever even think to expect happened, which made the red haired girl’s whole life collapse on her, crushing her.

As she was ready to go to work for the morning shift, Fifi, her dog, was in a corner, barely moving, looking terrible and there were bits of blood on the ground around her.

Panicking, Katrina ordered the first Uber and rushed to the clinic, as they have amazing equipment, so she could examine her dog, only to find that she has a lymphoma and a tumour on her spleen, which made the girl curse herself for not realising sooner.

She ran to the clinic’s owner, begging her to let her operate on her dog and have someone assist and help her...

Only for her to refuse, unless she gets a tremendous amount of money to compensate, the same amount of money that any customer is forced to pay...

Why couldn’t they just let her do it?!

She was pissed off.

She was desperate.

She went back to the operation room, hugging her dog, and taking out her phone, she took a deep breath and called the only person who could be able to help her.

“Hello? Katrina, what is it, did you need anything?” Jumin asked in the same passive voice as usual. “Jumin, I...I...I need your help. I know, it’s going to sound horrible, and I don’t want you to think that I want to use you or anything, but...But I need some money to perform surgery on Fifi. I begged the clinic’s head to let me do it, that I would pay for it over time...I-I even told her that she could give me no salary for as long as I pay my debt, but she wouldn’t agree. I...I don’t know what to do, Jumin. I have some money that I managed to save, but this...This is more than I could dream of sparing. And if I somehow manage to scrape the money from God knows where, I won’t be able to pay the rent or help Delilah with University pays and...And I...I don’t know what to do...” Katrina slid down one of the cabinets in the surgery room, looking at her dog on the surgery table, that looked back at her, crying. “...I understand this is a difficult situation to be in, but you have to understand that, even though V trusts you, I can’t just throw around so much money to a total stranger that I have never met, especially if it’s the company’s money and it will have to be justified.” Jumin sighed, speaking in a low, almost business-like voice. “JUMIN, I’M BEGGING YOU, I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THIS! If you want to see me in person, I will give you the clinic’s address, if you want me to pay you back, I’ll resign from the clinic and work for you 24/7 until I pay my debt, I-I-I...I don’t know, I will do anything you want, ANYTHING, just PLEASE, help me out, fast, because she has cancer and a spleen tumour and if I don’t operate today, and start chemotherapy. I don’t know how long she’ll have.” Katrina started crying on the phone, and her dog started whining softly in front of her. “Don’t cry on the phone, it’s hard to understand what you’re saying. Text me the address and I’ll come examine the situation, and only then I will debate whether to give you the money or not, is that fair?” he asked, making the girl grin and clutch her blouse. “Yes, Gods, yes, it’s perfect! More than perfect! Thank you so much, Jumin, I owe you my life forever. I just texted you the address, I will be waiting for you. Please, please, PLEASE come as soon as you can.” she begged him once again. “Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t given you the money yet.” Jumin spoke, a bit unsure of his words. “Doesn’t matter. You’re willing to go out of your way to help, and that’s more than enough. I truly appreciate it, Jumin. I’ll go try to beg the chief again. See you.” she hung up, standing up and kissing Fifi on her head softly. “I’ll save you today, baby. I promise.”

The girl jolted on her feet, going to the head of the clinic to try to beg her again, hoping to persuade her, at least until Jumin arrives, but she wasn’t able to stop the river of tears going down her face.

“Why can’t you just let me do it?! I’m not going to disappear without paying you, but it’s an enormous sum of money, I can’t just come up with it by snapping my fingers, and she’ll die if I don’t start acting soon! Do you really care so little for an animal’s life?!” she tried her best not scream her frustrations away, but the chief had none of it. “This is a business, not a charity party, Katrina! We need money to continue this place, every little coin matters!” the boss tried to defend herself. “But I’ve been your employee for years and I said I’ll give you back all the money! Hell, I told you to stop paying me until I’ve repaid the debt! What more can I do to let me save my dog?!” she cried out, feeling her heart drop, not hearing the door opening. “That’s exactly why! You’re just a mere employee, not THE boss! I AM the boss, I AM the rule here, and I’m telling you that if you still wish to have a place to work at, then shut your mouth and use the little money you have to put down your dog. Just a piece of advice.” the woman in front of her talked so harshly, that it made the girl’s jaw hit the floor in disbelief. “I don’t believe that’s how a proper employer should speak to her employees.” a low, judging voice came from the door of the clinic, revealing the brunet man walking inside, like a guardian angel. “J-Jumin...!” Katrina could only stare at him, wide-eyed from shock and emotions, as her emerald green eyes were swimming in a pool of mixed feelings and frustration. “By how the situation unfolded in front of me, I can see that your emotions were genuine on the phone, Katrina. I’m glad I put money on this card, it’s obvious that your employer is subpar to you in every way possible, and it’s a pity that you have to downgrade your skills to somehow like this...” Jumin shook his head, taking out a blue card, making the girl’s bottom lip quiver and throwing herself at him, hugging him with all the strength she had in her little body. “Thank you so much, Jumin. I owe you everything. I owe you my life. You’re a literal angel, Thank you so much for saving Fifi’s life.” her fingers were clutching the back of his blazer, which made the man get stunned for a few seconds from the unexpected action. “If you’re going to perform surgery right away, I’d like to watch. I want to see what happens with my money.” he cleared his throat, trying to make the girl stop being overly emotional. “If he gets in the operation room with you, I’m not giving you another assistant.” the boss snatched the credit card, snapping her head to the side. “Oh, screw you, you heartless bitch!” Katrina growled, shoving aside the woman in front of her and dragging Jumin tot he operation room. “It’s fine...I can do it. I can do it on my own. It’s not that hard. I can do it.” she muttered to herself, taking a few deep breaths before prepping for the surgery. “You’ve never done it before, have you?” Jumin took off his blazer, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt and leaning on the wall to get a good look at the whining dog. “...I’ve only ever assisted a few times, but at least I know what has to be done.” she ruffled her hair a bit, before putting it in a high ponytail and putting the dog hooked to anaesthesis. “She’s going to fire you when you’re done here.” Jumin said as a matter of fact as the girl started the surgery. “...I’d have resigned anyway, as soon as I found another place that would hire me. There’s one thing to compromise and stomp on your pride to maintain a job or gain a benefit...But there’s another to go completely against your principles and convictions and let someone humiliate you like that. I’m a human, not a martyr and I have no reason to accept being treated that way. No amount of money or benefits can buy me.” she ranted a bit irritated from the previous encounter, as she focused on removing the tumour. “That’s admirable, if true. Not many people can say that. Trust me, if you work in the same field as me, you’d be more aware of that.” Jumin replied after a few minutes. “If you came here, I think you know I’m speaking the truth, and you just needed confirmation. Rational people are like that. They need proof to back up their reasoning.” she shot back, carefully putting the tumour on a plate and beginning to sew the incision, only for the anaesthesia levels to go down, and the breathing and pulse rates were going down, which freaked out the girl, who dropped the utensils to start fumbling with the tech and getting some medicine to keep up the rates to a normal level. “Should I call for-...” Jumin got up, trying to help, but the girl was much faster. “Yes, you can help. Get here and make sure the numbers here are between parameters. I will finish this up so no more damage will take place.” she dragged the man, instructing him quickly, but well explained, as she worked around the incision, getting rid of the additional bleeding and finally successfully sewing up the wound. “Are you sure you don’t wanna be a doctor or something? You have great reactions and don’t panic under pressure. You were amazing, Jumin.” she took off her mask, throwing away the gloves and slid down the cabinet, looking exhausted after the long procedure. “You explained well what I should do. A great leader makes the followers perform well. You will be great when you open your clinic, and I’m sure Delilah is going to learn a lot from you.” he said, sitting down next to her. “Thank you, Jumin. Your words mean the world for me. Thank you for saving Fifi...I owe you the world...Because she is my world.” Kat rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. “If you want to owe me, how about you become Elizabeth’s private doctor. I’m sure Delilah would be happy to have an excuse to stay around her more often.” Jumin chuckled, as the girl raised her head, cocking an eyebrow up in shock. “I’ve already wasted enough of your money, I couldn’t possibly impose so much on you and have you pay me or something. Besides, I...Uh...I don’t want to end up for you the same as Jaehee. I enjoy your company and our interactions...I wouldn’t want that to change in a more professional way or something, so bad that you can’t listen to my voice or try to avoid or run away from me.” the girl sighed, hanging her head. “You said you don’t want to be an unfree slave anymore and that you’re going to work your way up. If you want to get rid of the title of Vassal, then you could become a Lord’s Lady and-” Jumin started talking, but he was quickly cut off again. “No. If you want me to be your girlfriend, I won’t refuse, but that means that I will never take money from you. It’s either romantic or professional, you choose. But if you’re that confident in my skills as a doctor, then you should know that both I and Delilah are going to treat her anyway, so you won’t really need a private doctor or anything.” she spoke a bit colder than usual, not even realising. “I see. You said you won’t be bought, and you stay true to your words...Maybe a bit too much. It’s rather unusual for me to meet a woman like you, who’s not, as Luciel would call, a...Gold digger. But I’m glad I met you. You are a strong and sensible woman with a gentle heart and a fire passion to do what’s right and save as many lives as humanely possible, and I admire that about you.” he turned his head to her, who could only look in surprise at him. “...Nobody I’ve dated...Or met...Ever said such nice things about me. Katrina, you’re so cold, Katrina, you’re so heartless, Katrina, why do you act like a hedgehog around me, Katrina, why do you never have time for me, Katrina, why do you love those animals more than me. Katrina, Katrina, Katrina, you’re such a goddamn failure as a girlfriend. You say this is unusual for you, but this is equally unusual for me as well.” she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, looking away. “Then I suppose we can figure this out together, if you want. I believe we have quite a few misconceptions to clear out for each other.” he smiled softly, putting his arm around her, bringing her closer to his side. “Wanna go for a quick coffee or something? There’s this pretty nice cafe close to my home. Nothing extravagant or expensive...Just a small, little vintage cafe with a nice and calming atmosphere.” leaning in, she cuddled to him, having a tranquil smile as well. “Doesn’t sound too bad.” Jumin nodded softly. “Oh, and...I’m paying. No arguing here.” she said firmly, making the man chuckle, agreeing nonethless.

---

A year passed, they had other RFA charity parties, they hung out a lot of times, all of them, together, Delilah became Elizabeth’s private doctor, which obviously meant that her and Tsuki would hang around Jumin’s place for play dates with Elly under ‘professional’ pretextes, much to Katrina’s annoyance, Jumin made sure to gather fund for her dream clinic so both girls could pursue their dreams, and made sure to include animal charities and animal-saving related guests to all the RFA parties, and things overall seemed so much simpler and balanced than ever before.

One beautiful Saturday, Jumin and Kat were cuddled together in bed, both of them doing some light reading, as the door was opened and Delilah’s gentle smile greeted them.

“Hello, Doctor Delilah.” Jumin greeted the girl playfully, as she blushed lightly from happiness. “Hello, Jumin!...Awww, Elly, you’re cuddled with your toy, you’re so cute!!” the girl cooed at the adorable white feline. “I’m really happy that her love for cats got her to pursue her dreams and get to this point where she’s surrounded by cats everywhere she looks.” Kat looked over to her friend with a side smile.

“I and Katrina are going to leave next week on a business trip. I think it will be no problem if Elizabeth was to stay over at yours, am I right?” he asked, and seeing as the girl’s eyes started sparkling with glee. “Any time! She’s a wonder to have over, and Tsuki is always happy to play with her!” she replied, hugging the cat, as Elly put her paw on her nose softly, melting the girl’s heart. “Great to hear. And you, Doctor Kat? What are meow going to do with Fifi?” Jumin nudged her with his usual subtle playfulness. “I’d do anything to hear you meow more often, it’s adorable. Maybe purr a bit too...I’ll leave Fifi to Jaehee. She doesn’t shed hair like Elizabeth does, and Jaehee needs some leisure walks too.” the red haired girl teased as she started softly scratched him under the chin. “Meow.” Jumin did a cute cat and small cat smile, burying his face in the crook of her neck, purring softly. “I was right...Meow are adorable.” the girl giggled in amusement, cuddling closer to him, “As are you.”

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagine #mysmes imagine #mysmes #mystic messenger x oc #mysmes x oc #jumin x katrina #jumin han imagine #jumin han #mysmes jumin #elizabeth the 3rd #delilah #delilah loves cats #happy birthday sweetheart #I love you #I'm really happy we're friends #<3 #can't wait too see each other again #very soon

15 notes · View notes

cchellacat · 5 years

Text

Snapshot

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme. I hate it- I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh; even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call, but mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all.”

This was my prompt for @littledarlinhavefaithinme 10 Things Challenge. Sorry it’s so late my love xx

Wintershock

Bucky/Darcy

18+

“I hate you!”

“No, you don’t”

“Yes, I do....”

Bucky slides out from under the counter, pulling his hair back and snapping the elastic around it. Darcy stands in the doorway, hands on hips and silently fuming.

“Fine, why do you hate me today Doll?” He drawls it out, Brooklyn accent thickening as he cocks a brow and gives her a slow grin as he prowls closer to her.

Darcy bites her lip trying to stop the smile from forming, fuck it makes her knees weak when he looks at her like that.

“That, right there, that is why.”

Bucky frowns, consternation clear on his face.

“What? What did I do?” He reaches out and catches her wrist, tugging her playfully till she falls against his chest.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” She uses the now close proximity to poke his chest ineffectually with one pointed finger.

“Like what?” Bucky rubs his nose to hers before dipping and stealing a fast hard kiss that makes her moan low in her throat, her whole body now molding itself to his.

“Like you know what I look like naked, damn it!” She pushes away from him as he chuckles into her mouth and he lets her go with a reluctant sigh.

Darcy stomps off, cursing under her breath, Bucky is left feeling slightly confused. To be fair he often feels confused, especially since he started hooking up with Darcy.

He watches her go, hips swaying and licks his lips... he does know what she looks like naked, like a god damn fantasy. He’s determined she’ll give in eventually, let him take her out, date her, do things the right way. He knows she’s everything he ever wanted, but he also knows she’s wary of relationships, scared that if she falls for him he’ll just be another one of the jerks who used her and cast her aside when they were done. It drives him crazy the anyone has used her like that because she’s perfect to him in every way.

Bucky steps off the elevator running vibrainium fingers through his hair, it’s shorter than he’s had it since ‘45. It was strange watching the last of the Winter Soldier fall away as Natalia cut it this morning, like he was shedding his old life, or maybe even reclaiming his first.

He holds a tray of coffee in his free hand as he searches the labs for Darcy. It takes him longer than usual to find her, getting stopped by a half dozen people, most of them staring and smiling at him and trying to flirt, at least till they suddenly seemed to realize who they had come onto, then they’d make excuses to get away.

Darcy finds him before he finds her, the sound of her heels clicking purposefully have him turning to greet her. He’d know that Staccato rhythm anywhere, she walked with a purpose and vitality that exuded confidence, he’s come to appreciate that little twist of heel in her step, it makes him smile just hearing it. She stops in front of him, scowling.

“I hate you!”

“Doll, you wound me,” he brings a hand to his heart, “I brought you coffee.”

He turns on that old Barnes charm and offers her the tray. The way she eyed him actually had him a little unnerved for a moment and he wants to fidget, she always makes him feel this way, like he’s some bug under a microscope being assessed and judged, but she’s been looking more and more confused with each meeting, like she doesn’t understand why the other shoe hasn’t dropped yet, doesn’t get why he keeps coming back no matter how much she pushes him away.

He smiles anyway, tilts his head, taking in the pretty picture she makes in her black dress, it’s all business today which means she’s got meetings with some of the department heads. His girl practically runs the R&D department, there’s not a project she doesn’t oversee and secure funding for and the scientists love having her around, the place would be a mess without her.

Darcy grabs the coffee and glares half-heartedly, red lips pursed, watching as he runs his hand nervously through his hair again. She makes a choked noise and bites her lip.

He kept coming back, kept chasing her, she doesn’t understand why, he’s had her, multiple times, it seemed he’d spring up out of nowhere regularly and it wasn’t just for sex.

He kept bringing her flowers and chocolate and... fuck, he always seemed more interested in making her cum than taking care of himself. If she wasn’t careful she’d get her heart broken. She’d been through this too many times before, men always got bored of her, they only wanted her for sex and she’d come to accept that.

She enjoyed sex, I mean why shouldn’t she? It didn’t have to mean anything and sex with Bucky was insanely good, like, ruined her for all other men good.

Then there was the fact that he wanted to talk to her, listen to what she had to say and would laugh at her stories, always asking for more, it made her nervous. He was slowly turning her world upside down with his sincerity, but he seemed determined to wear her down, to convince her to him a chance... maybe it’s time to stop running.

“You cut your hair.” She stated, shooting a nasty look at Pearl from accounting who sidles past, winking at Bucky as she goes. Darcy reigns in the urge to slap her or make some snippy comment about taking a picture and refocused on Bucky as he shot her a smug smile, damnit. He seemed to know what she was thinking.

“Yeah... Felt like I needed a change.”

“I hate it.” She sounds less certain this time, eyes filling with heat as she really takes in the change. Jesus Christ, he looked hot. All she wanted to do was run her hands through it, maybe give it a hard tug while his mouth was between her legs. She closes her eyes briefly and tries to think of something else.

“You hate my hair sweetheart?”

He knows she doesn’t. Sees the way she curls her tiny fists as though holding back from something.

Darcy rolls her eyes and shakes her head, there was no way she was going to let him see that he was finally getting to her. He has that self-satisfied smirk in place like he thinks he’s won something.

“Did you have to cut it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you just dropped out of a GQ cover shoot, no one is getting any work done, they’re all too busy staring at you.”

Bucky’s lips lift into a crooked grin, she looks cute when she’s flustered, he can see her resisting the urge to run her own fingers through the new cut.

“Here,” He digs in his pocket and brings out a pack of peanut buttercups, holding them just out of reach.

Darcy swears and reaches for them, he holds then above her, teasing her with her favorite treat.

“Bucky!”

“Thought you hated me Doll...”

“Give me the god damn candy Barnes.”

“Give your best guy some sugar, sugar,”

Darcy presses her lips together, stifling a giggle from the cheeky smile he gives her and stands on tiptoe, kissing his lip's quickly. He grins like he just won a prize and drops the treat into her hand, enjoying the childish glee which suffuses her expression. He grabs her hand in his and she follows along beside him right up until he suddenly scoops her up and tucks them both out of sight inside a supply closet.

Twenty minutes later a disheveled Darcy emerges from the closet, her shirt askew and her hair loose from the bun she’s had it swept into earlier. Bucky follows her out, catching her arm and pulling her back in to steal a soft heady kiss before letting her go again.

“Dinner.” Its a demand, not a question.

Darcy bites her lip, eyes bright and finally, after two months of trying to convince her he was serious about them, she nods her head.

“Saturday night, pick me up at seven.”

Bucky whoops and swings her up not caring a bit that half the techs in the labs were staring at them.

He’s got it, a proper date, he’ll plan the whole thing out. He wants to show her how special she is, that he’s not dating her on a whim or to satisfy some carnal itch, she makes him giddy, the way she smiles, how much she cares, she makes him laugh, to him, she’s everything.

“Jesus Bucky! Not so hard!”

“This damn car’s older than I am.” he gripes, foot pressed to the floor as he wrenches the wheel again, taking them round a corner at speeds Darcy could have lived without.

“I hate you! I am never letting you drive my car again!”

“I love you too Sweetheart, now pass me my gun and hold the wheel.”

Darcy shrieks as the hail of gunfire strikes the back window and does as she’s told. Worst first date ever!

“Would you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me.”

His shoulders rise nearly to his ears as he shrugs uncomfortably and looks away. The tiny confines of the jet make it hard to put any space between them, which is what Darcy had been trying to do since their clusterfuck of a date two weeks ago. Every time she got him cornered he ran, he couldn’t now though.

Eyes cast down again she pretends to read her book. He’d ignored her trying to talk to him when they first boarded, she’d given up trying an hour later when it seemed all she was going to get were noncommittal grunts.

This time only ten minutes pass before she feels the weight of his eyes on her again.

“What?” The demanding tone ricochets in the tiny compartment like shrapnel.

Blue on blue caught stubbornly as his mouth tightens in a thin line.

“Nothing.” He finally mutters, looking away, fingers tapping aggravatedly on his thigh.

Darcy slams the book closed and leans forward.

“I-”

“Hate me, I know, I finally got the memo doll.”

“Oh don’t try that bullshit with me, Barnes, seriously, what is your fucking problem? So what if the date went badly? You’ve not spoken to me since you left me in medical.”

“You nearly got killed!”

“I know! I was there!”

“Than why are you trying to talk to me?”

“Because all you’ve done for two weeks is make puppy eyes and run every time I track you down!”

“I nearly got you killed Darce... I didn’t know what to say.”

Darcy rolls her eyes hard and leans over, pointed finger once again poking his chest.

“You say, let's try that again Darcy, this time without the kidnapping and murder grenades.”

The look of confused surprise is adorable.

“You’d still want to go on a date after we got shot at?”

Darcy throws her hands up and leans back, crossing her arms.

Silence reigns in the compartment, heavy with unspoken words.

“Darce?”

“What?”

“Pick you up at 7 on Friday?”

Darcy’s brow arches, her arms falling as she sighs.

“I hate you.”

“It’s a date.” he grins before tugging her out of her seat and into his strong arms. Darcy yelps as she’s moved to straddle hard thighs, her heart racing already in anticipation of what was coming next....namely her. She smiles as his mouth covers her in a playful teasing kiss and melting into his hold wraps her arms around his neck, relieved to be back where she belonged.

He’s always in her apartment, it feels likes he’s all but moved in permanently. His books sit on the coffee table, a gun safe takes up a previously empty space under the kitchen counter, there are numerous knick-knacks from around the world he somehow has time to pick up from whatever mission he’s been on recently, littering the surfaces.

Darcy throws off her jacket and kicks her shoes off, wandering down the hallway to the bedroom. Just as she enters the room she finds herself suddenly tripping, gravity catching her and hauling her down.

“Easy sweetheart, I gotcha.” She’s caught by a warm, wet wall of muscle, her momentum now pressing every inch of her to him.

“Christ on a cracker Bucky, what the hell...” looking down she spies the combat boots that have been left loitering in the entryway to the room. Where on earth had he come from?

“I didn’t think you’d be home yet doll.” She takes in the damp hair and naked chest, beads of water still clinging to skin.

“Seriously? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Sorry doll, forgive me?”

A long-suffering sigh escapes her, she’s too tired to tell him off for leaving his boots lying around.

“One condition-”

Before she can complete her demand he produces a bar of chocolate, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he lets her go.

“Okay and I-”

A glass of wine is pressed into her hand like magic. Darcy squints at his all too innocent expression, mouth opening to-

“’m not a mind reader, just know what my girl needs after a long day.”

“I hate you.” she replies without any ire.

Bucky smirks.

“Love you too Doll.”

She’s never going to live this down, he’s told her a dozen times not to leave without her tracker, telling her she’d get her ass kidnapped.. again. God, she hates it when he’s right.

The cell is dimly lit, but oddly comfortable considering she’s been kidnapped by what she assumes is probably some previously thought defunct offshoot of Hydra.

Six hours later when the sounds of fighting break out and the thick steel door swings open she’s too thankful to say it out loud.

Bucky strides through the door, murder etched on his face and scoops her up without a word. Darcy just clings to him, thankful to wait for the lecture on personal safety till later.

He told her he was away on a mission. It’s why when she spots him, she decides to follow him. He’s meant to be in Egypt, not New York.

He loses her on 5th Avenue and she mutters angrily all the way back to the Tower.

When he appears the next morning she pretends like nothing happened, like she hadn’t seen him in the city and he acts like he hadn’t lied to her about it.

Silently she begins to count down the days till his things will surely disappear from her apartment before it’s only him left, the last thing to leave.

Darcy distracts herself with work and Jane and corralling her merry bunch of mad scientists, putting off the inevitable.

She’s going to enjoy whatever time they have left. In the deepest part of her she cries and tries very hard to hate him for the lies. She thought he was different, she thought he was the one.

Bucky pats his pocket for the fifth time and fidgets in his seat. The restaurant is half empty and the table service has been terrible. But it’s the place he’d first met her, although he’s not sure she remembers as they dither over ordering dessert or heading home to raid the freezer for ice cream.

“Have we been here before?”

The sudden question snaps him out of his reverie and he glances across the table. She’s been subdued lately, but he hasn’t been able to figure out why.

“I was wondering if you’d remember.”

“Remember what?”

“First time I saw you. I was having lunch here with Steve and Stark. You blazed in and threw Starks drink in his lap.”

She tilts her head quizzically.

“This is where... I don’t even remember you being here.”

“We weren’t introduced till the week after, you stormed right back out again after making him sign some papers.”

“Oh..” Her bottom lip is caught between a flash of white as he rubs his palms over the sides of his thighs. When she looks away he stands, coming round the table, dropping to one knee.

“Darcy...”

She turns back, eyes widening at his new position and location.

When he reaches into his pocket for the ring she gasps, one hand covering her mouth and the other gripping the tabletop.

With the worst possible timing, a passing waiter trips over Bucky’s foot, sending himself and a tray of food crashing to the ground, leaving Bucky kneeling there, covered in carbonara, mouth half open and a blue velvet ring box in his hand.

He gapes, horrified by the turn of events then closes his eyes. When he opens them again it’s to the sound and the sight of his girl giggling helplessly, head shaking as she laughs.

“Omg, your face... baby... oh my god were you going to propose?”

“What do you mean were, sweet cheeks, this is it, this is my life. I swear to god my Ma must be watching this from heaven and having a fit. My life's a disaster Darce, but you make everything better. I don’t want to do it without you. Even if it means getting coffee for breakfast and ice cream for dinner for the next sixty years. Marry me, Darcy, make me the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.”

She nods her head, still laughing, tears streaming down her face while he struggles to fit the ring on her finger.

“It’s beautiful Buck... when did you even have time to buy it?”

“Took a day a few weeks ago instead of taking the op in Egypt. Spend it scouring every jewelry store in Manhatten.”

The ring is new, but the design is old. A princess-cut diamond flanked by garnet petals sparkles in her finger.

A curious expression drifts across her face at his answer and she bites her lip hard before swooping forward and kissing him.

“I hate you,” she whispers lovingly into his mouth.

Warmth spreads in his chest.

“Gonna need you to do that for the rest of my life Doll.”

“Not gonna be a problem soldier.”

They pay and go home to eat ice cream. A long hot shower later they fall asleep on the couch where they were cuddled up reading to each other. Bucky snuggles her close and throws a blanket over them, thanking every deity he can name for giving him a second chance and her.

The phone is clutched tightly in her hand, the shape of it indented in her skin. Three days, five hours... That’s how long she’s been waiting for him to call and tell her he’s okay, that he’s holed up in some safe house or podunk hospital with no internet or cell service. She taps the glass, checking her call history before swiping and rechecking that the settings are right, the ringer’s on, she’s not on silent or do not disturb... Grabbing the wire beside her she plugs the phone in to charge, again. How many times had she done that now?

The phone rings, some telemarketer, she declines the call, furious that it isn’t him, that it might have stopped his call from connecting.

Running her hands through her hair she gathers it up, snapping one of Bucky’s hair ties around it in a sloppy bun.

The quiet of the apartment is getting to her. She stares out the window, watching the silent rush of life sixty stories below. It doesn’t make sense, how can everything look so normal, how can everyone else still be moving, living?

Cold cups of coffee are scattered around the apartment, keeping company with the small momentoes of their life. The book he’d been reading to her before he left, her socks left under the coffee table where he’d thrown them after he’d peeled them off her feet, intent on stripping her bare before he’d fucked her into the couch the night before he left. Her bag and shoes left at the door beside his combat boots, the ones he kept for weekends when he drove his bike upstate, her perched behind him, arms tight and body pressed into the soft leather of the jacket that hung on the peg beside her fluffy cardigan and the Gryfindor scarf she’d knitted for him last Christmas. He was everywhere, in every corner of her life, every crack and crevice, he’d wormed his way in, inch by subtle inch until she couldn’t remember what it felt like before she’d known him.

The soft wrap of knuckles on wood has her spring from the armchair. Opening the door the pale face of Natasha Romanoff stares back. Darcy steps back, silently allowing the women to come in.

“Why don’t we sit.” She’s never heard Natasha so quietly calm before. The other woman is usually three parts snark one part sincerity. Arms crossed, Darcy stands her ground, shaking her head.

“Where is he, Natasha?”

The widow tries to place a comforting hand on her arm but she angrily shrugs it away.

“He’s gone Darce...”

She whips round to see Steve framed in the doorway. He looks wrecked, face bruised and bloodied. It’s the way he looks at her, his eyes full of silent sorrow and apology that makes her prickle.

“No.” Darcy doesn't know if she’s denying the words or refusing to accept what he’s saying without speaking, but she shakes her head, futilely repressing the welling panic and grief threatening to overwhelm her.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she snaps, “you don’t get to say that. He’s not dead.”

“The building was blown up Darcy. The whole thing collapsed and the fires were raging for over twelve hours... Even Bucky couldn’t survive that. We looked for him, no one saw him get out before it went up. There are no reports of anyone matching his description in any of the medical facilities within a hundred miles of the explosion. It’s been three days.”

Steve’s begging her to understand but what her heart tells her is that she can not give up on him. Not yet, not ever.

Bucky promised he’d come back. He’s never broken a promise to her, he’s not going to start now.

“He’ll come back. He always does.” The finality of the statement ends the discussion and both level sympathetic glances at her which she pointedly ignores.

They leave her alone, the apartment door closing quietly as she finally lets her knees fall out from under her. Bone wrenching sobs burst forth from her lips as her body heaves out her worry and grief.

“I hate you... I hate you so much right now... I hate how much I love you. You have to come back to me so I can tell you that...”

Whispered words of loss fall around her like ash. She hates it. She hates how alone she feels. Hates that he made her need him. Hates that when he’s not around it feels as though her world is falling apart. The engagement ring winks mockingly from her finger. A promise of a life together. He has to come home, he just has to.

~Six Weeks Later~

“I love you.”

Words spoken into heated skin as pre-dawn light suffuses their bedroom.

He came back, he’s all around her, every inch of him pressing into her. The affirming sounds of harsh breath, low moans, the symphony of skin against skin as his body slides over hers, fills her with warmth, relief, happiness.

His hips, safely cradled in hers, his cock buried deep in the tight, silky heat of her leaves him undone and yet complete, grounded, he’s home.

It’s slow, drawn out. They make love with each touch and kiss, breath life back into each other with each joining of their bodies.

Climax closes in for them both, her back arching further, meeting the increased pace of his thrusts as she clings tightly to his shoulders.

His body tenses as the tingling feeling creeps up his spine but he holds back, waiting... When he feels her finally begin to cum, he lets go, her walls clamping around him like a vice as he pounds faster, his hands gripping her ass so he can push deeper and then it hits, not a breath of space between them, bodies shaking and moving through it, his pelvic bone pressed hard on her clit as she gasps his name, her legs tightening around his waist, keeping him locked in place, he couldn’t get away if he wanted to, she was so tightly wrapped around him. He empties himself inside her, filling her up, some primal satisfaction that she’s full with his seed, that the scent of him will cling to her for days.

The scent of sex and satisfaction lies heavy in the air.

They lie there as the sun rises, bodies replete and at rest as the light slowly fills the room.

“I love you.” She says it again and he kisses her softly, slowly, burning the memory into both their minds.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” He asks her lightly and she rolls her eyes, sighing.

“ I hate the way I don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all, because I never hated you. I hated that I fell in love so fast.”

“I loved you from the minute I saw you, doll, I’m never going to leave you again, I promise.”

She runs a hand through his hair gently, taking in the sincerity in his eyes.

“You can’t promise that.”

He shushes her with another kiss.

“I told Steve I quit. No more active duty.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“Why?”

“Can’t risk it, not anymore, not when I’ve got you.”

“I’d never ask you to-”

“I know, it’s why I’m doing it. You deserve to be happy and so do I.”

She’s speechless, but it doesn’t matter, all that does is that she’s not going to lose him again.

“Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you. You might take over the world if I didn’t. My tiny megalomaniac.” He teases.

Darcy blushes hotly. He’s mostly teasing she decides after a moment, after all, she’d taken everyone out of her way to keep the search for him going, even against all the evidence. If she hadn’t he’d still be rotting inside some Hydra prison cell.

His eyes crinkle with mirth as he rests his forehead on hers and she wrinkles her nose.

“I hate you.”

The End.

@omnomsauruswrites @eurynome827 @loricameback @southerncross47

@book-dragon-13 @spacemansam @jobean12-blog @grimeysociety @noquirkyurl @collinsstanharbour @marvelous-meggi @marvelgirl7

#bucky barnes #darcy lewis #wintershock #bucky/darcy #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #fluff #smut #lemonish #my fic

133 notes · View notes

trubilee · 4 years

Text

so i guess i’ll write (blogwrite?) now.

today we were authorized for early release at D, the way we are whenever there’s a holiday, so i decided to use up my 3 hours of company-gifted time to try and write this morning (not write this blog, but write other stuff, which tired me so now i am writing this blog as my treat for this last hour).

it has been a challenge to write these past several months. i sort of think i know why, or i know what triggered it at least. not sure why the difficulty persists but i guess i could pat myself on the back for trying this morning.

there are a lot of things i’ve been wanting to write about. in no particular order, my performance eval at work, my strange quarantine life-related skincare fixation journey (oh, the ups and downs), wes and happiness and my odd overthinking of it sometimes, the chasing francis book i finished a couple weeks ago, the funeral last week, and... hmm. maybe that’s around everything i can think of. oh, music in the time of rona too. also stuff in me that the writing has kicked up. i guess i could try. oh, and my bras of choice during these WFH times. maybe a little about daisy and the vaccine.

so. performance eval. it went extremely well. we took the full hour. my leader L is not the type to give much feedback, but in the first half of that hour she basically looked straight at me and told me all the things i would’ve wanted to hear. about client group 1, and 2, and 3, the breadth and versatility and equal parts drafting and interpersonal connecting components of them all. i repeated it all to paul when i told him how it went, and really, really it was everything i would’ve wanted to hear from her. i was praying thanks to God as she was talking to me through the screen, because i was just absorbing all the words that i had been so hungry to have her give to me this whole past year. and there are so many things to it too. things like, i know i am not perfect and everything to everyone the way i think i should--even could be--and i can’t necessarily just say to myself “oh but nobody is” because actually, at this company, there are some people who are, they really really are just so good, and i feel so bad just taking in how good they are at thinking on their feet and killing it at getting things done here, and being so articulate and effective at communicating and dynamic and all of it. anyway, the conversation felt so... whole-making. hahaha. make-whole-ing? another part of it is that i have always been grateful for the job, i always felt like it was suck a lucky winning when i shouldn’t have necessarily landed it and with that came this default set of thoughts that went, oh they hate me. oh they think i am inept. oh they see how inept i am. they regret hiring me. i don’t want them to regret hiring me. that would be one of my worst fears, jobwise. to burden someone with my existence on their team. i know that it’s healthy to think that a company is lucky to have you and to know your worth and all, but bc i’m kind of acquainted with my own versions of total failure, i’m not good at thinking that way. i’m always thinking that i’m lucky to work for X company. it would probably make many a leadership coach or asian american advancement advocate grimace. i’m sure it’s a handicap to me careerwise, salarywise, etc etc, but asking me to fix it is like asking mesomeone to stop being insecure. in that, it's not something you can change by will. it almost feels like a part of my dna, not just some protective armor. this is why i sort of roll my eyes inside when someone announces that she (it’s usually a she) has imposter syndrome. it’s unfair, i know, but i almost want to look around and say, wait is that not just the normal state of things? why are you acting like it’s some sort of unusual complex that you have? i thought everyone, anyone with any noonchi, had that. that’s like saying that--gasp--you don’t think you’re the absolute sh*t. it doesn’t mean you're afflicted with anything. i should ease up a little.

damn. i only have 20 min left.

ok another thing about the performance eval. about which i joked to my leader, when she said we could have these conversations more regularly if we wanted to, that my heart could only take once a year at most. i was so relieved, so happy, i felt so uncaged afterwards. bc again, really it extinguished all of the unhelpful fears that had made me so tense about work this year. and part of me, the part that is always maybe a little too self aware, thought to myself, that gosh, if getting a positive review from my leader at some big company where i am a corporate peon is this satisfying to me, then perhaps my world, my dreams, are just rather small.

i was thinking about that and preemptively tried to put it to paul this way: that sometimes i feel very rich. not like money-wise, bc i know just enough of the wrong people to ever feel that way (lol). but more in a life-currency sort of way. like when i think about my little family of three, my son who is so perfectly delightful that i don’t even know how to--i don’t know how to appreciate him or even just take him in without feeling like his delightfulness is slipping through my fingers simultaneously with, even AS i’m, looking at him and trying to appreciate him and take him in (does that make any sense?), my husband who i have similar slightly overwhelmed feelings about when it comes to his quality as a human being and heart on this earth, and my mom and dad who both survived their different cancers. about how somehow God provided me with not just the friends i needed but even extra friends who i didn’t dare think i had a chance at asking for, and even this house, and having and seeing daisy and family regularly, and gosh even my inlaws who only seem to ever give and never receive (sorry, ommonim abbonim...) and my sister in law who i feel the same way about, and our nanny, and yes this job too, this job i once never thought i had the right to even dream of having bc of said past failures, this job for two companies brands i adore and believe in. and the chance to write, and feeling like i have something to write about. and even knowing a handful of living, breathing, non-robot human beings who actually read what i write, actually think it’s worth their time. what marvels.

on the other hand, sometimes i feel rather poor. i feel like we don’t have enough savings, we aren’t saving enough. i feel like we will always just need to work for a salary bc neither of us is in a job role where we make dividends happen for us. and i am so junior here at a place where promotions are slower than slow anyway, and salaries aren’t tech or finance salaries anyway. and i feel ugly and like a half-distracted working mom whose life is devoid of glamour or romance or margin or space or passion / vision. well, i guess my “poor” list is a lot shorter than my rich list.

all this to say, after my dumb performance eval i felt like a rich woman. not because they told me i was getting some big raise (i’m not, and i don’t generally care bc the raises are so small and have you seen the mass layoffs happening here). i felt rich bc i felt like i got really validating feedback from leaders i really admire, both on a professional and personal level, and i work on a team with colleagues who i think are really excellent at what they do, and i work at a company where i really like what they make. i feel kind of silly typing all of this out bc it’s so freaking wholesome and vanilla and, again, small, but it’s true. those things made me happy after my review. and this is the job i report to 8 hours a day. yep. real stable, ordinary stuff.

i told paul that in thinking about how happy i felt and feeling self-conscious about that happiness, i would rather feel like a rich woman and be objectively “poor” than to be the other way around. to feel like i am poor but in reality be quite rich.

it’s also funny bc B and G also specifically separately felt compelled to send me messages confirming this same exact thought, now that i think about it. how wonderful. thank you.

next topic. bras in rona times. yesterday i bought my fourth--no, lemme count--seventh! eberjey bra. it’s not bc i’m being greedy, it’s just that the ones i started with i wore so often that they jstarted wearing out. the eberjey bras are generally underwired, with no lining except a thin layer of lace, and they make my boobs--my post-maternity, seen-such-better-days, already wilted boobs look terrible under my clothes. but i am working from home and don’t need the extra lining for decency’s sake. and when i see the bras in my bra drawer and i deposit my boobs into them every morning it feels lovely. the bras are unflattering but they are delicate enough (while still practical) and comfortable to wear and are lovely to look at.

well i need to start my workday now. if i ever get around to it i’ll write about other stuff.

1 note · View note

darksunrising · 5 years

Text

Sola Gratia (16/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : Graphic depictions of violence (death, gore, body horror). Reader discretion is advised.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 16/? (3111 words)

Author’s notes : Leah’s pov.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Once I got used to the way Carmilla drove her truck like a bumper car, and made my peace with my imminent death, I realized she actually never was anything close to hitting anything. She just had that crazy energy that called for concern, somehow. When I was able to shrug it off, though, I was actually pretty fun. She kept a hand on the wheel, not seeming to pay much attention to the road at all, and asked me a lot of questions.

You'd think that would be the other way around, but she somehow seemed interested In knowing things about me. She wondered about my hobbies, my research subject, my favorite sound, or if I'd rather have licorice for teeth, or fruit-by-the-foot for arms. We ended up disagreeing on that matter, but to be fair, I figured licorice wasn't that bad for someone who feeds exclusively on blood.

She parked in my street, and I guided her toward a tall, 15-something stories high building I called home. It was old, but not enough as to be aesthetically pleasing like Eris', or even have an old-fashioned charm. Nah, mine was from some forgotten architect's mind from the seventies, who modeled the whole block out of the most boring version of brutalism possible. Like, I had nothing against brutalism per se, Le Corbusier buildings usually slap, but this one... Wasn't it. When I first started to live there, I did the math of how many people could live in such a huge place, and the quick realization that it was well over a three-digit number gave me vertigo for days. As of now, it seemed perfectly normal, and I knew most of the people living there on a first-name basis. Carmilla was looking over the stark lines of concrete, dividing the façade in hive-like rectangles.

“Well, that's... Uninspired”, she commented, which made me laugh.

“You're nowhere near ready for the inside, then”, I replied, fumbling for my keys.

I buzzed us in, the strong, metallic noise of the door making her cringe. I myself took some time to get used to it. The floor was covered in some cheap imitation of marble, and the walls by some faded, yellowed wallpaper no one had bothered changing or cleaning in years. The roof, as was the trend back when it was built, was a dirty white rough plaster, that too never cleaned, as parging was obviously nearly impossible to wash. I called for the lift, giggling at Carmilla's cringe. As the red LEDs showed the lift's slow descent toward the ground floor, I knocked on the wooden frame a few times.

“What's that for ?”, the vampire asked, curious.

“Oh, it's superstition, so that the lift doesn't break down”, I replied, the absurdity of the ritual hitting me as I put it into words.

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Never said it did !”

As the small screen indicated it reached our floor, with a small, rusty bell sound, I opened the door. It was the kind of elevator that had no doors of its own, but every floor had a swing door, opening onto the shaft. That always seemed like an incredibly hazardous system, especially considering the number of children I spotted running down the corridors every damn day. And no, there was obviously no security close to the doors, meaning anyone could just throw themselves down the elevator shaft at any given time. Miraculously, there had been no incidents since I moved there, except the one instance of a 60-something year-old man breaking his hip. The lift didn't go all the way to match the level, because of God knows what kind of mechanical failure, and he missed the step. Thankfully, the walls are kind of thin here, and his scream quickly alerted a neighbor, who called an ambulance immediately.

Still, there were always stories, the usual type you find in any buildings, really. One lady, scorned by her lover, supposedly threw herself down in despair, her cries still haunting the halls in moonless nights. On the thirteenth floor, the elevator would seem there, but as you'd open the door, you would only see the pitch black darkness of the shaft, and be pushed in. As I myself lived on that particular floor, I never had any instance of dying by supernatural forces in six years of residence. Not yet, at least.

While the lift went up, the familiar slight squeaking noise was the only disturbance to the silence. I propped myself against the wall opposite the door, and she had her elbow pressed against the same wall, nonchalantly leaning over me. I tried looking as casual as possible, but I could somehow feel like she delighted in the effect she had on me. I wondered if it was perfume, but she smelled strange. Not bad, mind you, but something unusual. I could have described it saying it was spicy, yet sweet, like cinnamon and honey in a lemon black tea, but it felt more like a landscape. The more I focused on that perfume, the more everything seemed to fade away, placing images in my mind. Dark, orange dunes, undulating under a deep blue sky, ripples of golden grains softly running across their quiet surface. Tall ridges of red stone, carved by the winds and ancient, long gone rives into maze-like patterns, so narrow the bright moon couldn't fit entirely in the gorges.

The elevator bell suddenly brought me back to reality, and though still a bit shaken, I didn't mention anything. I led her into the long corridor, bathed in an orange, flickering haze by the wall lights. I opened my door with the usual struggle, and as usual, proved the victor, pushing it in. Whoever put it on its hinges obviously did a marvelous job, as it was a bit tilted, and drew a circular black mark where it dragged every time I opened it. Seeing as she didn't get in, I quickly invited her in, closing the door behind her with a kick.

I regretted not putting a bit more order into the flat, even if I had no way of knowing I'd get a visitor. I mean, Eris did come over regularly, but we knew each other long enough that she didn't pay any mind to the mess, knowing where to step to not squeeze out a cable or something like that. It wasn't dirty, I just figured furniture was too expensive and not useful enough as to be something I'd waste money on. Most of my books were stacked in piles along the wall, which was arguably better than standing up anyways, concerning the warping of pages. My couch, tables, chairs were also the results of many DIY weekend with Eris, using pallets we found scavenging around big supermarkets, and a lot of time sanding, varnishing, and painting. Same for the cushions and the like, that we made ourselves too, buying a whole roll of cheap upholstery white fabric, and a metric ton of stuffing. In all, I think we did 90% of the whole house furnishing ourselves. It gave the place a singular look, very colorful, and a bit alien, with all the cables snaking across the walls, and the plants hanging all over from the ceiling or about anywhere. We also made up some overly complicated automatic watering system, that was more or less efficient, and only used whenever I felt like cleaning up the mess.

The point was, it was a weird-ass apartment, and I wondered if Carmilla would like it. She looked around, and I chose not to read into her expression. She went up to a suspended spider-plant, in a pot hoisted up by a hemp net.

“Did you make this yourself ?”, she asked.

“Yeah, the net and the pot, actually”, I replied, anxiously waiting for her appreciation.

She smiled, and gave it a little push, leaving the plant to softly swing around.

“I love it.”

I sighed with relief, which made her laugh. A bit embarrassed, I went to look for my tech stuff, and set it on the bar, booting up the computer. As it took its time, I went over the coffee machine, asking Carmilla if she'd like a cup. She only raised an eyebrow. Ah, fuck me. She said a polite “No, thank you”, yet sounded like she was lightly making fun of me.

The sound of the whirring machine covered the one, a bit more faint, of my long, high-pitched squeal of embarrassment. I always felt like the mere feeling of the hot cup into my hands was enough to start up a working mood. I set the VPN running, for a start.

“So, what exactly should I be looking for ?”, I asked Carmilla.

“I think the records of the latest murders would be a good start, if you can access those”, she proposed, moving over behind me, eyes on the screen.

“If I can access those”, I scoffed, and started typing away.

I did get caught fast last time, but I thought my only obstacle was breaking in, not being anonymous. That time, I wouldn't make that mistake. Their servers were very well protected, but then again, nothing is truly unbreakable. Those especially powerful often get cocky, and being cocky often allows for mistakes. Mistakes I did a great job exploiting, if I do say so myself. Breaking into the archive of MINA's wasn't that hard. I, of course, focused much of my energy being certain I could not be identified. Being inside such a huge building, with tons of different IPs and internet traffic, hiding was not that hard. I came to be pretty disappointed, however, when I could find no trace of any of the documents. Some uninteresting incidents, very easily disputed in terms of paranormal activity, a lot of recordings, all labeled with an identification number, all starting with the letters MAG, which puzzled me somewhat. I didn't think it over much, and reviewed the rest of the files. None matched those that Carmilla looked for. I groaned in frustration.

“I don't think they digitized those files yet, for some reason”, I told her.

“Probably because the case isn't closed yet”, she observed, and took a pause, thinking. “Which means there probably will be more to come...”

“What do you mean ?”

“Could you access the local police radios ?”, she asked, her confidence back on.

Nothing easier. Tapping onto those was fast, and if you knew where to look, pretty efficient. The only problems were the important traffic, which made it complicated to find only the information that actually interested you. Trying to follow murders, while having no idea where to look or when to expect it was a bit complicated.

I set up another post for my accomplice, and we got to listening, me going through the coffee pot, her changing her way of sitting every time I looked up at her. At some point, she was entirely upside down, her legs thrown over the back of the couch. After a while, something finally caught my attention. I quickly called Carmilla over, and she joined me, sharing my headphones.

“... complaint at 231 Cloverfield lane, nearby personnel please respond.”

“Officer Price responding, am in the area, i'll check it out. Do you have specifics ?”

“Affirmative, officer Price. Got a missing person's report for one Edward Leeds, resident at 231 Cloverfield lane, appartment B, break--”

“Go ahead.”

“Got a complaint for a smell of rot coming from Leeds' apartment just now. Possible Major Crime, use code zero.”

“Copy that, am en route. Over and out.”

I looked over at Carmilla. That sounded a lot like something that could interest us. She had the same feeling, and we quickly made our way out. I typed the address into my phone as we took the elevator down. It was a bit less than a ten minutes away, which meant less than five in Carmilla's manner of driving. We were then quickly on the scene, and found the police car sitting in front of the building. I advised Carmilla to park a little ways away, as her car wasn't exactly blending in. We found a spot in a parallel street, and hurried over to the place.

“How are we supposed to get in ?”, I asked my partner in crime.

“I have my idea”, she told me, and undid her braid to tie her hair back up into a tight bun. “Just follow my lead, and we'll be fine.”

Intrigued, I climbed the stairs along with her, and I opened the door, as to be able to invite her in. As soon as pulled on the handle, however, I was overcome with a putrid smell, so thick it started to choke me. I covered my mouth with my sleeve, and reluctantly stepped in, inviting Carmilla to follow me. The door to apartment B was cracked open, which explained why the smell was so strong. Even Carmilla seemed a bit disturbed, which was saying something.

I once again was the first to step in, allowing her to follow. She then took the lead, as we were soon spotted by who I assumed was officer Price. She just had called for backup, and looked pale as a ghost.

“This is a crime scene, you need to step out of the flat”, she urged us, sounding nauseous, but trying her best to be firm.

“Officer Price, we are private investigators for MINA. I'm sure you understand the reason of our presence here”, Carmilla told her, taking a silky, sweet tone.

The officer seemed surprised, and opened her mouth to answer, only an instant, and closed it, as if she forgot what she was going to say.

“We'll need to take a look, please go get some fresh air”, she told her.

The woman seemed confused, but nodded, and left. I looked over to Carmilla. She winked at me, and crossed the living room. If she had seemed bothered by the smell, she barely winced anymore. I felt like I was about to puke, even with the double shield of my sleeve and my hands, but still followed her. Morbid curiosity, maybe. I knew I would regret it. We went towards an open door, leading into a dark room.

The blinds were partly closed, only leaving a thin stream of pale sunlight through. Dust swirled and sparkled in it, and I got lost in the golden dance a second, not really wanting to look anywhere else. My eyes took a moment to get used to the dark. The apartment was ancient, the kind you see on historical TV shows about the 19th century or something. Wooden floors, high ceilings. I started by those, expecting they would be untouched by whatever horror was burning itself into my nose and lungs. That's why I was all the more horrified to see the dark stains on the white moldings, dripping onto the chandelier, where, like garlands, intestines were hanging. Bile surged up my throat, and I almost threw up on the floor. Taking a second, eyes closed, I swallowed, hard. I hadn't paid much attention to the noise, and I only now noticed the buzzing of flies.

I gathered myself, and opened my eyes back. Carmilla was leaning over the bed, hands crossed behind her back. Carefully, apprehensively, I let my eyes follow up to what she was observing. You could definitely tell it had been a human man, at some point. Mostly naked, though strips of fabric clung to the skin, blistered and red, weirdly swollen, like someone tried to stuff him without really knowing what they were doing. Deep gashes ran across the torso, splitting it open, the broken ribs sticking out or sunken in. Most of the organs were unidentifiable lumps of meat, coated in a viscous, yellowed liquid, soaking the sheets and the skin in a sick, brownish sheen.

The part that disturbed me most, somehow, in the atrocious mess, was the left arm. Don't get me wrong, the skin was as red and swollen as the rest of it, but didn't seem to have suffered the same rabid violence as the rest of the body. I got closer, my interest and curiosity momentarily overcoming my disgust. It seemed Carmilla had the same reflexion. No wound seemed to have reached that part, which was odd given the left had been... gnawed, like a dog's chew toy. Only distinctive sign was a single puncture, right where you'd take a blood sample at the doctor's office.

Now that I thought about it, there was surprisingly little blood around the body. A few splatters, here and there, but nothing of consequence. The sheets, that I thought drenched in it, were only imbibed in the juices a corpse produces in decay, and the rot set the dark coloring. If that poor man was killed for blood, and if it had been transfused rather than drank directly from the source, that still didn't explain the carnage.

“This is not him”, Carmilla whispered, almost to herself.

“What do you mean ?”

“This”, she stated, a bit of anger in her voice, “Is not the Elder's work. This... Undignified slaughter, this macabre display of gore is definitely not his signature move.”

“You think a human did this ?”, I squeaked.

“No. I think he already has created himself Hunters”, she told me, as if I was supposed to know what that meant. Seeing my puzzled look, she kept going. “Newborns, that get him the blood he needs to grow stronger, to survive. Who can't control their impulses.”

Her tone was so disdainful, it almost made me feel inadequate too. She advised we should leave, and I heartily agreed, not too keen on staying in the rancid place. As we left the flat, we started hearing distant sirens. As we passed by Officer Price, Carmilla told her we were never there, to which she nodded, and looked past us like we disappeared. We made our way back to the car, and as soon as it was in sight, I felt nauseous again, and Carmilla barely had the time to pull up my hair as I emptied my stomach onto a street bin. Feeling dizzy, my arms shaking as they held onto the edges of the trashcan, I was only a bit relieved by her hand, softly stroking my back.

“I need to shower for a week, now”, I croaked after spitting out the last of the bile out of my mouth.

She laughed and opened the passenger door for me.

“I'd be honored to help you with that as well.”

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

15 notes · View notes